Never Let Me Go
by kate04us
Summary: A case from the past comes back to haunt Sharon and forces her to confront old demons and share a part of her history that she has spent almost two decades trying to forget. Rating is for subject matter. PLEASE READ THE WARNING! (Shandy)
1. Chapter 1

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 1**

_"__Dear refuge of my weary soul,_

_On thee, when sorrows rise,_

_On thee, when waves of trouble roll,_

_My fainting hope relies."_

_― __Anne Steele_

**A/N: **This story comes with a **WARNING** for subject matter. It deals with the trauma of rape and torture and while I tried to keep out any graphic details, anyone who has issues with that subject or for whom that is a trigger should probably not read on.

A big thank you once again to my wonderful beta **RockinRobin B**! All remaining mistakes are mine.

If you're looking for someone to blame for the existence of this story, it's **Kadi219 **who I asked to kill that plot bunny. Instead she shamelessly enabled me and spent many nights brainstorming with me. Thank you, twin!

Another shout out goes to **lontanissima** for her input and support. *hugs*

The title is stolen from Kazuo Ishiguro. You should read that book, btw. :D

**Disclaimer: **Not my sandbox, not my toys. I just like to hang out with them for a bit. I'll return them (mostly) undamaged.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Sharon looked around the Murder Room, a happy smile on her face as she observed the carefree banter of her team. They had just closed a particularly difficult case, which involved a jealous husband killing his wife's boyfriend. Lieutenant Provenza was especially elated, because his prediction of "it's always the husband" had been proven right once more. He was currently trying to convince the others that they had to pay for his drinks later, since he had called it. Andy and Mike ignored him, only smiling into their paperwork at his antics. Buzz and Julio were too busy protesting and Sharon thought it was pretty safe to say that the Lieutenant would win that round. She would even bet on it**,** if she did that kind of thing. Amy really was the smartest one of them all. She had told them she wouldn't be able to join their celebration, because she already had plans with Cooper. Giving the young woman a closer look, Sharon doubted that Cooper knew anything about those plans at this point.

Before she could vanish into her office to finish her own pile of paperwork, Mike called out to her, asking if she was going to join them at the pub after work. She considered the invitation for a short moment, still not entirely used to being included in these kinds of things. When she finally met Andy's eyes, she had to suppress a smile at his eager expression. She pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly as if she were still weighing her options and Andy seemed to take that as indication that she needed further encouragement.

"Oh come on, Captain. I'll even give you a lift home so you can have a glass of wine."

At that she let the broad grin spread over her face, nodding her head.

"Alright, Lieutenant. That's an offer I can't refuse. Especially since I hear Lieutenant Provenza is buying the drinks from the money he got out of that highly illegal betting pool of his."

She smiled sweetly at the Lieutenant in question, raising an eyebrow that let him know she was aware of the money that changed hands after every case and who was behind it. Around her, Sharon heard her detectives snicker as Provenza grumbled something that, in the interest of a harmonious work environment, she tried very hard not to hear.

The easy way in which they all got along, the light joking and the implicit trust, still came as a surprise to Sharon occasionally. In the last three years, they had grown into a fantastic team and she felt proud and privileged to be part of it, that they were comfortable enough with her to joke and grumble and place bets in her presence.

"Well, if we want to get out of here before the pub closes, we should all get back to work now. Those reports won't write themselves."

Sharon was about to turn towards her office once more when someone else addressed her. Swinging around again, this time with a slightly annoyed frown firmly in place, she faced the unfamiliar intruder.

"Captain Raydor, I've got a message from the DA's office for you."

The young man, an intern from his eager look, handed her a manila envelope and left again, apparently glad to get away from the solid wall of inquiring stares. She looked at the envelope in her hands and tore it open without a second thought, convinced that it would be the paperwork for their latest case. Usually, DDA Hobbs took a little longer to get it back to them, but maybe she was just as anxious to get out of the office as they were.

The first thing she noticed when she pulled the sheets out was the signature that clearly didn't belong to DDA Hobbs. It was the untidy scrawl of the DA himself she saw. Besides, the stack of papers was too thin to be the complete paperwork on the deal they'd just made.

Intrigued, Sharon started to read the letter that was addressed to her. After only a few words, her breath caught in her throat and she felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from underneath her feet. The sound of her pounding heart was almost deafening and black spots started to dance in front of her eyes, as she suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. She shook her head to clear it, but it only made her feel even dizzier as the walls seemed to close in on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Andy approach her, a concerned expression on his face. The thought of anyone, even him, entering her personal space or touching her, made bile rise in her throat.

Lifting a trembling hand to cover her mouth, Sharon hurried out of the Murder Room, the papers slipping out of her grip, drifting on the breeze of her rapid retreat, rustling quietly as they scattered across the floor. Behind her, distant and indistinct, almost as if through a fog, she heard Andy call after her but her need to get away from the prying eyes and the questions that would undoubtedly follow was too great. She needed to get away from the words she had just read, words that pried at a door inside her mind, which she had closed and bolted long ago. Darkness lurked behind that door, a darkness so profound that it had the power to drown her, as it had once before. Running down the hall towards the restrooms, one single thought went through her head over and over again. _This can't be happening_.

When she reached the ladies' room, the urge to be sick had mostly passed. She stepped up to the sink and held her hands under cold water, letting it run over her wrists and splashing her face with it in an attempt to chase away the dizziness. It didn't work. Bracing her hands against the washstand, she tried to draw air into her lungs, but they stubbornly refused to expand. She felt as if a fist closed around her heart, squeezing hard. Sharon pressed a hand against her chest, trying to ease the pain. On some level, she was aware that she needed to calm down, to focus her thoughts on what to do next. There were issues that needed to be addressed and they just added to the pressure inside her.

_Panic_, the rational part of her mind declared and immediately provided the necessary steps to combat it. Still, every breath was harder to draw than the last and her vision became blurry again. She knew she would pass out soon if she didn't get a grip, but losing consciousness didn't seem like such a horrible idea at that moment. It would at least give her a moment's reprieve from the encroaching darkness, a short delay on her way down that path she knew only too well.

As the promise of sweet oblivion tugged at her, drawing her further and further away from painful reality, a pair of strong arms closed around her, drawing her into a solid form. For a few short seconds, Sharon stiffened, her body getting ready to fight against the confining hold, but when the familiar scent and the soothing voice reached her, she leaned into him, letting him keep her from tumbling to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 2**

When Andy entered the ladies' room, he found her at the sink, one hand pressed against her heart, face pale and drawn. At first he feared she might have a heart attack, but then he realized that it was most likely a panic attack. She hadn't even noticed him entering the room, nor had she reacted when he approached her. As he turned her towards him and pulled her into a tight embrace, it took her a moment to recognize him before she let him hold her. She was barely breathing, only drawing flat, hurried breaths that did little to supply her body with the necessary oxygen. Andy felt her getting heavier in his arms as she lost her grip on consciousness. Pushing her away from him far enough to give him a good look at her face, Andy shook her slightly, his voice urgent, commanding.

"Sharon, breathe! Do you hear me? You need to breathe!"

She blinked at him, barely comprehending his words. He repeated them, shook her again, pleaded with her to stay with him, until she finally drew a deeper breath, then another. Andy pulled her against him again, one hand stroking her back in a wide, gentle circle, while the other rested at the back of her neck, massaging the base of her scull through her thick mane. His cheek rested against the side of her head, lips moving against her ear in a quiet, soothing mantra.

"Just breathe. I've got you."

At some point, Sharon's arms rose to curl around his middle, desperately clinging to him, her entire body tense and trembling. He didn't know how long they stood like this until she had finally calmed down somewhat, the imminent threat of passing out gone for the moment. Putting his hands on her upper arms, he held her away from him once more, studying her face to see how she was doing. Sharon refused to meet his eyes, so he cupped her cheek and tilted her chin up to make her look at him before he spoke.

"Better?"

At her nod, he continued, his thumb brushing over the slightly smudged mascara underneath her eye, "Why don't you freshen up a little while I get our things and then I'll drive you home?"

Sharon closed her eyes, took a shuddering breath and nodded once again, reluctantly releasing him from her grip. Brushing his thumb over her cheek one last time he let go of her.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that he turned around and walked out, despite his instinct to keep her close.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Everyone stared at the corner around which their Captain had just disappeared in stunned silence for a moment, until Lieutenant Provenza gave Andy a nod and waved his hand, indicating he should follow Sharon. When he hurried after her, the older Lieutenant bent down to retrieve the fallen documents, more than just a little curious what it was that they had just witnessed. Jumping into action, Amy rushed to help him, handing him the sheets, giving them only a passing glance. Sitting back in his chair, he put the pages on his desk and sorted through them. As he found the message the captain had obviously read earlier, he skimmed over it. One name caught his attention and he cursed loudly.

The others came to stand around him, trying to figure out what had him so enraged. To them, it would probably just look like an ordinary request to meet with a DDA for a chat about an old case that would be put on trial again. They wouldn't know about the Harris case and what it would mean for Raydor if he got another chance at a trial.

Now that he thought about it, Provenza remembered some rumours about DDA Stevens being investigated for some nonsense or another. If they had managed to make it stick, every conviction he had ever gotten could now be overturned if some idiot lawyer got wind of it. Apparently, Harris had found himself one of those.

He closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the questioning looks of his colleagues as his mind went back to those frantic days almost 20 years ago. He hadn't worked the case himself, but he had been close enough to those who did to remember. It wasn't every day that Vice and Robbery-Homicide joined forces to catch a serial killer with a taste for slightly older, high-class hookers. When the investigation had run into one dead-end after another, the homicide detectives who had handled the case asked Vice for help to get someone on the streets to lure their killer out of hiding. It had worked like a charm until some moron had not been on his post and they had lost their operative, only finding her three days later and in terrible shape. The only good news had been that she was still alive and they had managed to catch the perp.

Harris had taken the deal he had been offered by Stevens, which had been too good for a guy like him, but it had saved Raydor the painful time on the witness stand – until now, it seemed. Technically taking the deal would mean no option for appeal later on for Harris. But if they really had gotten Stevens on witness tampering or whatever he may have done, all his deals would mean nothing anymore. Slapping his hand down onto his desk hard, Louie coursed once more before he faced the people around him.

"Alright, things are going to get ugly around here. There's probably not much we can do right now, but whatever you see or hear over the next few weeks will stay inside these walls. You'll help most if you do your jobs and don't ask too many questions. We may have to do some maneuvering and deflecting, but leave that to Flynn and me. Just be ready to go along with whatever we throw at you."

His last words were mostly addressed to Sykes, who had demonstrated an annoying propensity for missing the most obvious hints over the three years she had worked with them. Admittedly, she had gotten better at catching on to these things, but he didn't feel like risking anything.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on?" Mike sounded exasperated at the lack of facts, but Provenza just shook his head.

"All you need to know is that an old case just came back to haunt us. Looks like the Captain and Flynn will have to testify and it's not gonna be pretty. Just be ready for whatever may happen."

They all nodded solemnly, aware that any more questions would be neither appreciated nor answered. Provenza was usually more than willing to share any kind of gossip. If he was tight-lipped about something, it would have to be really bad. They probably didn't want to know too much about it.

Everyone wandered back to their tasks, deep in thought, and a heavy silence filled the room, only broken by the occasional shuffling of paper, the clacking of keyboards or the scratching of a pen as reports were filled out and signed.

When Lieutenant Flynn returned a while later, walking straight towards the Captain's office, Provenza got up to follow him, the papers on the Harris case in hand. He closed the door behind them and gave Andy a long, searching look before he spoke.

"How's she holding up?"

Andy sighed and closed his eyes briefly, still struggling with the feeling of helplessness at holding Sharon while she trembled and gasped for breath and tried so hard not to fall apart.

"She's hanging in there for now." Nodding at the papers in Provenza's hand, Andy asked, "Care to tell me what this is? Sharon wasn't really in a mood to talk about it."

Louie didn't bother to hide his annoyance at the entire situation.

"It's the Harris case. Apparently, they got DDA Stevens on witness tampering in some other case and Harris' lawyer got the deal tossed out because of that. He's going on trial and they need her to testify."

The words hit Andy like a fist in the stomach, leaving him breathless and reeling. He closed his eyes and turned away from his friend, facing the wall. As the full meaning of this new trial hit him, he slammed his flat hand against the wall, his shout not enough to vent his frustration.

"Dammit!"

He whirled around again, a thunderous expression on his face, struggling to keep his voice low enough not to be heard outside.

"When will all this crap finally stop, Louie? Hasn't she been through enough?"

Rubbing his hands over his face, Andy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He needed to calm down. Sharon didn't need his anger and frustration right now. She needed him to be strong for her and he would be, no matter what it took. He looked up at the uncharacteristically soft touch on his arm. The face of his partner and friend mirrored his own frustration and concern.

"I know. Now listen to me. She's a tough old cookie and she won't be alone. She will get through this and once she's said her piece in court, they'll lock this creep away forever. If there's such a thing as karma, they'll even give him the needle. I'll make sure everything runs smoothly around here. You know, run interference with Taylor and keep the team out of trouble. You look after the Captain. She's going to need you more than we will."

Andy nodded, somewhat surprised by the easy acceptance of his closeness to Sharon. On second thought, he really shouldn't be, as Provenza knew most of the details of the Harris case and despite his grumpy attitude, he cared for his Captain.

"Yeah, okay. I'll take her home. Anything in that file I need to know about right now?"

Provenza slid the papers back into the envelope and handed it over to Andy. He should have it in case the Captain wanted to look at it again, although he doubted that.

"DA wants to meet her in Taylor's office tomorrow at 4pm. Let me know if you think she isn't up to it and I'll see if I can get them to reschedule."

Picking up Sharon's purse and coat, Andy walked towards the door, following Provenza out of the office.

"Thanks, Louie. I really appreciate your help."

His only response was a noncommittal grunt as the old Lieutenant made is way over to his desk. Collecting his own things, Andy left to get Sharon and drive her home, his heart heavy but his resolve to be by her side strong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 3**

When they arrived at Sharon's condo, Andy gently took the keys out of her shaking hands and unlocked the door, guiding her inside and relieving her of her purse and coat. She wandered further into the room, losing her shoes on the way before she stopped somewhere between the kitchen and the sofa, looking lost and unsure of what she was supposed to do. He hung her coat and his jacket on the coat rack, picked up her discarded heels and placed them underneath the small hallway table before he walked up next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders, pulled her into him his free hand capturing her cold, trembling ones in a firm grip. He wished there was something he could do to help her, to take at least part of the burden off her shoulders but apart from being by her side every step of the way, there was nothing he could do. Andy planted a soft kiss into her hair, his lips moving against the side of her head as he spoke quietly.

"How about you go and take a hot bath. I'll make you some tea."

After hesitating for a moment, Sharon nodded before she drew away from him and padded down the hall towards the bathroom. When he heard the water filling the tub, he took a deep, calming breath and started preparing their tea – one of those herbal blends Sharon liked to drink after a long, exhausting day at work. While he waited for the water to boil, Andy had a quick look into the fridge to see if there was something small he could prepare for her to eat in case she felt like it.

He was really concerned about her lack of response. She hadn't spoken a word since she had read the letter from the DA. During the ride home, she had stared out of the window the entire time, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, jumping occasionally at any unexpected noise.

The thought of Sharon having to talk about the Harris case the next day made Andy's stomach turn with worry. With the way she seemed to be handling the situation at that moment, he wasn't sure if she'd be ready for that conversation. All he could hope for was to get her to sleep for a few hours and maybe find a way to distract her until the meeting. A long walk might be a good idea. He'd see what she'd feel up to.

Once the tea was ready, Andy grabbed her cup and carried it to the bathroom, knocking gently on the closed door. At her quiet reply he eased the door open and found her sitting on the side of the bathtub, wrapped in a fluffy, powder blue bathrobe, swirling her hand through the steaming water. She looked up and gave him a small smile as he handed her the cup.

"Thank you, Andy."

Wrapping both hands around it, Sharon inhaled the rich scent of the relaxing herbs, closing her eyes briefly. Andy thought that she already looked a little more like herself again - a long way from okay, but slowly getting there.

"Do you think you can eat something? I saw you've got some things for a salad. I could throw something together."

Sharon just shook her head, studying the swirling water as she trailed her fingers through it again.

"That's very thoughtful of you, but I don't think I can. Help yourself to something, though, if you're hungry."

Andy left her to her bath and returned to the kitchen, contemplating the fact that neither one of them seemed to consider the fact that he should probably leave. He had no change of clothes with him and appearing at work in the same shirt two days in a row would definitely make certain people suspicious. The team didn't worry him. Whatever they thought, they'd keep it to themselves. He'd run into Taylor a few times that day and he would definitely draw all the wrong conclusions. There was no way Andy would leave Sharon alone, though. If he remembered correctly, the kid was supposed to be out with friends and would either be home late or not at all. Besides, he had no idea what was going on and leaving him to deal with Sharon while she was struggling to come to terms with this wouldn't be fair to him. Andy wouldn't be able to sleep, anyway, if he went home.

Picking a few items out of the fruit basket, Andy busied himself with cutting them into small pieces and arranging them on a plate while he sipped his tea and waited for Sharon to emerge from the bathroom. He hoped that she would maybe eat at least a little bit.

By the time Sharon joined him again clad in modest, gray cotton pajamas and her robe, he had made himself comfortable on the sofa, an old western running in the background, mostly ignored as he stared out of the window. She sat next to him, legs tugged underneath herself, snuggling into his side and hugging a pillow. Andy put his arm around her and drew her closer, his cheek resting against her head.

They sat in comfortable silence for a long time, only moving once the movie had ended. Even though she had appeared to be comfortable in his arms, he could feel the tension in her shoulders and the occasional shiver run through her. Stroking up and down her back with one hand, he turned off the TV with the other. He returned the now empty plate to the kitchen, happy that she had eaten a little bit after all. When he passed behind the sofa on the way back, he stopped, his hands resting on her shoulders, kneading her muscles gently. Sharon moaned, a mixture of pleasure and pain as he found the tight knots. After a moment, he ceased his motions, planting a soft kiss into her hair.

"Come on, you should try to get some sleep. If you want to, I could continue this where I can get to the rest of your back, too. Maybe it'll help you relax."

Sharon closed her eyes against the sting of tears at his words. She was unable to talk about it at the moment, was too afraid of even thinking about it for too long, and he just understood. Andy was simply there, holding her, knowing exactly what she needed without pressing her for information or fussing over her too much.

Placing her hand on his briefly, Sharon rose from the couch and walked around it, right into Andy's arms. She hugged him tightly, hoping the gesture would adequately convey what she couldn't put into words. They stood like that for a while, gently rocking back and forth before she stepped back and, taking his hand, made her way to her bedroom. He helped her out of her fuzzy robe and placed it over the back of a chair in the corner, telling her to lie on her stomach for him. She felt him settle onto the bed next to her, his hands caressing her back in long, firm strokes, warming her muscles, before he began to dig into them properly, slowly getting them to loosen up. The ache that had settled in her shoulders and neck when she first read the letter finally eased a little, leaving her drowsy and getting her mind to calm down.

At first, she didn't notice that her shirt had ridden up her back a little, exposing her lower back and hips. Only when Andy's hands stopped moving did she feel the cool air on her skin. Sharon went rigid at the thought of what he was gazing at. Only one man had seen that part of her in the last 18 years and he had taken one look and decided to walk away. Jack hadn't been able to deal with the visual reminder of what had happened to her or the way it had changed her. Holding her breath, Sharon waited for Andy to withdraw as well, expecting him to be repulsed by the sight of those old scars. When she felt him lean closer instead, his lips placing soft, feather-light kisses on every mark, something inside of her finally broke, allowing the tears she had tried to swallow for the last few hours to flow.

The sight of those faded scars was almost as painful as seeing the wounds they were a reminder of and Andy had to fight down his anger at the monster who had done this to her. His urge to make it all go away, to take every last memory of those horrible days away from her was strong, but he couldn't do that. When he felt the tension return to her body as she noticed what he was able to see, he wanted to let her know that it didn't bother him – not in the way she seemed to think, anyway. He would never think her any less beautiful because of the traces life had left on her body and he needed her to understand that.

As his lips touched her skin over and over again, he felt the tension melt away once more, as she finally let her tears come. Her face was buried in the pillow and apart from a few shudders and the slight change in her breathing, no one would be able to tell that she was crying. No heart wrenching sobs shook her frame, no desperate wailing filled the dimly-lit room, just a steady flow of tears. He sat up, one hand stroking her back in a wide circle, the other gently brushing through her hair, massaging her scalp until her breaths grew deeper and her body relaxed into sleep.

Carefully maneuvering around until he sat with his back resting against the headboard, he covered Sharon with a light blanket and buried his hand in her hair again to resume his caress. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, for the first time that day allowing his mind to go back to that horrible night so many years ago. A night that had changed his life in so many ways.


	4. Chapter 4

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 4**

_1997_

Andy Flynn felt absolutely rotten. It had been his day off originally, and he had spent most of the last night in a bar celebrating with his buddies for some reason or another. He had the mother of all hangovers and probably shouldn't even be on duty at all. The problem with that was that Vice had really messed up this time. They had lost an undercover operative three days ago, which meant every available officer was being pulled into the search. Personally, he didn't hold out much hope that they would find the Lieutenant from Professional Standards before the creep killed her. LA was a big place and apart from the description and license plate of a car that could possibly belong to the person who had taken her, they had a whole lot of nothing.

The entire idea of that tough-as-nails Lieutenant being anyone's victim was hard to grasp. Only a few months ago, she had ripped him a new one over some bullshit charge of misogyny from a cute young detective in traffic, sending him to one of those new sensitivity training classes she seemed to be so fond of. She had pissed him off beyond words with her infuriating calm and those incredible legs that had tempted him to make a comment. He would still swear that she had only been waiting for that but he had managed to control himself, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

As much as she had annoyed him with her stupid rules, he had liked her. Apart from being easy to look at, she had a wicked sense of humour behind all that sarcasm and snark and he wished he had a chance to get to know her a little better outside of work. It probably was too late for that now.

Cases like this were a big part of why he spent most of his time off in bars. Too often they were behind the dirtbags, always a little too late, always lacking the key piece of evidence only to find yet another dead body, another life destroyed. He wished he were still drunk instead of just mildly intoxicated. It would make dealing with the frustratingly fruitless search so much easier. Between his pounding headache and the prospect of spending another four hours sitting in a car with his partner, Andy wanted to scream, almost tasting the bourbon as it slid down his throat.

While they drove through the quiet streets of some run-down neighbourhood, dusk slowly settling over the city, he vented some of his frustrations in the form of a well-practiced rant. Rodriguez, who had been his partner for close to a year knew it only too well. He stoically stared out of the window, keeping his eyes on the road as he listened to Andy complain about his ex-wife, about how she hadn't let him visit for Nicole's birthday, how he hadn't even had a chance to give his little girl a present. Amanda was unreasonable and unfair, blaming all the problems they were having on him, his work, his drinking, his uncontrolled anger, and whatever else she thought was wrong with him. He was so sick of it all. He was sick of life being such a struggle all the time.

They almost missed it. Andy was in the middle of a passionate narrative about his unloving, cold-hearted wife, hands flying wildly in front of him when he suddenly paused mid-sentence and yelled at his partner.

"Stop, stop! Pull over. I think I saw something. Turn off the headlights and back up a little."

Rodriguez did as he was told, backing the car up several meters until Andy could get a closer look at what had caught his attention a moment ago. In the overgrown driveway of a shabby old house, stood a car that looked like that of their dirtbag suspect. He turned to his partner, one hand already checking to see if he had his gun at his side.

"Call for backup and then come around the back."

With that he was out of the car and on the way to the front door, weapon in hand. The sudden rush of adrenaline cleared his head immediately, leaving him focused as he carefully walked up the wooden steps. The old door wasn't locked and surprisingly, didn't squeak as he pushed it open with one hand. Peering into the long, dimly lit corridor, Andy couldn't make out anyone. He stepped inside listening carefully for any sounds that would indicate the location of their suspect.

He was halfway down the hallway when a floorboard creaked somewhere above him. Whirling around, he made his way upstairs as quickly and as quietly as possible, hoping his partner would hurry up and get there. Doing this without backup wasn't exactly procedure and as he considered every possibility for someone to take him down, he began to see the purpose of some of the rules. But he was too far up the rickety stairs to turn back or wait. Besides, Rodriguez wasn't exactly one of the fastest people he knew.

As he reached the top floor he spotted a door that stood ajar, soft light from the room behind it illuminating that end of the hall. Creeping along the wall, Andy inched towards the door, trying to get a good look at the situation inside. He had to nudge it open a little bit further to see them. A guy who matched the description of their suspect sat on the edge of a bed at the far side of the room, leaning over the naked, motionless body of a woman, who was tied to the bed. The guy seemed almost tender in the way he drew the small knife over her chest. It made Andy's skin crawl and her quiet whimper sent a chill down his spine. With a firm kick, he flung the door open all the way and, weapon drawn, he charged into the room, ordering the man to drop the knife and get down on the floor.

It was pure instinct that had him act in time. One second it looked as if the dirtbag was giving up and the next he had the serrated blade pressed against his victim's throat. Andy double-tapped, causing the man to fall forward onto the bed and the prone figure on it. Rushing across the room he moved the unconscious man to the floor, pausing only long enough to check if he was still alive. Noticing that he hadn't fatally wounded him and that the wounds probably wouldn't kill him before an ambulance would reach them, he turned towards the bed, removing his jacket and covering the small woman with it. He had just started removing her restraints, careful not to spook her with any hasty movements, when his partner burst into the room, ripping a frightened scream from her throat. Never taking his eyes off her face, Andy tried to reassure her before he instructed Rodriguez to call for two ambulances and get him a blanket from the trunk.

As soon as he had untied her, he took one of Raydor's hands in his, holding her wide-eyed stare with a gentle gaze, his voice calm and soothing, belying the rage that boiled underneath.

"I've got you. You're safe now. He won't hurt you anymore, I promise."

She didn't say anything, she didn't even blink, but her hand curled around his in a death grip, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. Mumbling quiet words to her, not really caring what he said as long as it sounded calming, Andy waited for Rodriguez, keeping half an eye on the dirtbag to make sure he didn't get any ideas, but so far he hadn't stirred.

His partner returned a minute later, this time being careful not to scare Raydor. Handing Andy the blanket, he peered at the injured woman briefly before he let his questioning gaze return to him.

"I've got her, Miguel. You take care of that over there."

He indicated their suspect with a dismissive flick of the head, his attention on the blanket he had been handed. As she wouldn't let go of her hold on him, Andy did his best to unfold it and spread it over her with only one hand while he continued to talk to her, hoping in vain for some kind of reaction.

Moments later, several pairs of feet stomped up the stairs, announcing the arrival of their backup. He wanted the paramedics to take care of her first, but they quickly assessed the situation and went to work on the bleeding dirtbag, leaving the traumatized officer for the second team, reassuring him that the other ambulance had only been a few minutes behind them and would be here any minute.

The activity of the paramedics drew Raydor's attention to the unconscious man on the ground, her eyes glued to him as her body started shaking. This was not the reaction he had hoped for from her and, looking at the scene at his feet, he figured that they'd take a while to stabilize the guy for transport. Andy didn't want her to be forced to stay in the same room with this asshole any longer.

Standing up, he gently extracted his hand from her grip and tugged the blanket more firmly around her.

"It's okay, I'll get you out of here. Just let me know if I'm hurting you."

She flinched several times as he adjusted the blanket to make sure that she was decently covered. When he slid one arm underneath her back and the other under her knees to lift her, she whimpered into his chest and he was almost ready to put her down again, but she curled her fingers into his shirt, clinging to him.

Carefully carrying her downstairs and out of the gloomy house, Andy spotted the second ambulance pulling up behind the first and he made his way over to the waiting EMTs with his precious cargo. They had obviously seen his approach and were already busy getting a gurney ready. He gently laid her on it, letting her hold onto his hand again once he had gotten her settled.

Shouting a short distance away drew his attention and Andy spotted a bunch of photographers struggling with several patrol officers, trying to get a good picture. Giving the paramedics an eye roll, his free hand waving in the direction of the commotion, he watched as they loaded the gurney into the ambulance. He managed to stay out of the way and still hold onto Raydor's hand, as she didn't seem willing to let go of him. The paramedics worked around him, one of the men maneuvering him into a position where he didn't block access to their patient. He tried hard to keep his eyes focused on her face as they peeled away the blanket to assess the extent of her injuries, but even out of the corner of his eye he was able to see enough to make him feel sick.

There were cuts and bruises all over her body and something that looked like cigarette burns. Dried and fresh blood covered her body, apart from other things he didn't want to think about. As the guys started taking her vitals and checking her over for more severe injuries, she began to whimper again, trying to turn onto her side and curl up. The younger of the two EMTs attempted to hold her down, which only made her thrash about in panic, screaming at them to leave her alone. Her voice was hoarse, so unlike her usual deep, smooth tone and the thought that she had possibly been crying for hours without anyone hearing her made his stomach drop.

Andy leaned over her slightly, careful not to crowed her too much and whispered calming words into her ear, trying to reassure her that no one would hurt her anymore, that she was safe and that they would take care of her, make sure she would be alright. His voice and the fact that the EMTs had backed off made her settle down a little, but she was still agitated, on the verge of panic and definitely not up to being subjected to any kind of examination.

The older paramedic had obviously recognized the problem as he approached with a syringe, briefly making eye contact with Andy to make sure he would be ready for any possible reaction. Grasping her hands between his, he held on tightly, never ceasing to talk to her even when the needle sliding into her arm startled her into struggling once more. Whatever she had been given, it worked quickly, making her body relax into oblivion. Gently laying her limp hands beside her, Andy stood to get out of the ambulance and deal with the mess that was their case. No matter how much he would like to stay with her and make sure she would be okay, he had a statement to give and someone from her unit would probably want to ask him how two bullets from his gun had ended up in that scumbag. He just wished his aim had been better and he hadn't just got him in the shoulder and arm.

Of course he didn't say that to Raydor's superior, who had personally come out to the crime scene to conduct the investigation, probably to keep knowledge of her role in this case and of what had happened to her as quiet as possible. Her job was tough enough as it was, without every officer with a grudge knowing how to get to her. If she ever returned to duty, that was. Not many people did, after something like that.

Captain Adams didn't make a big fuss over the interview, some of his remarks giving Andy the impression that he wouldn't have minded too much if Harris had ended up in a body bag instead of on a gurney. Raydor was one of his officers and a damn good one, too. It didn't take a psychic to know that Adams didn't like that she had gotten hurt – especially while doing someone else's job.

As soon as they were done at the crime scene, Andy had his partner drive by St. Catherine's on the way to the office. It wasn't really on the way, but he felt the need to check on Raydor, see if there was something he could do. Besides, they would need photos and any other evidence they could get. Making sure it was taken care of was as good an excuse as any.

He still heard her whimpers and screams, saw the raw fear in her eyes and felt the desperate grip with which she had held onto him, his mind playing the images of her terrible injuries in a constant loop. Sitting in the car with nothing else to do, his imagination was only too willing to come up with detailed scenarios of what might have happened to her. He wasn't a rookie anymore, had seen is fair share of violence, but that didn't help him deal with what he had seen earlier. The more he fought to push it out of his mind the more vivid the images became. Rage finally broke through his tight control, making his heart beat faster and his breaths come in short gasps. His stomach clenched painfully and he had the sudden urge to be sick.

Yelling at Rodriguez to pull over, Andy jumped out of the car and hurried over to a tree at the edge of a small park, bracing himself against it as he heaved up his meager lunch. His partner walked up to him, putting a hand on his back and asked him if he was okay. Andy just shook him off a little more roughly than necessary and walked towards the park.

He needed to get away from everyone, the impulse to punch someone too strong to suppress. He wanted to run away from it all, just run until his legs gave out. He wanted to open a bottle of bourbon and drink until he passed out. It wouldn't change anything, though. It wouldn't make anything better - certainly not for her. Andy couldn't imagine how anything could ever make this better for her and he despised himself for whining about his own little problems, for feeling sorry for himself, for thinking his life was unfair when he had just witnessed an entirely different level of unfairness. His own problems paled in light of what he had seen earlier and he felt ashamed for thinking he had it tough. As he strode along the small path, he did something he hadn't done in a very long time. He prayed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 5**

_Present_

Sometimes, Andy's mind still took him back to that night, to the sound of her soft cries and the sight of her panic-filled eyes. He'd had nightmares for many months, especially after seeing the photographs of Sharon's injuries and reading the medical report. He hadn't been part of the original team working the case, but after being the first officers on scene, he and Rodriguez had been involved in nailing Harris. Not that there had been any doubt about his guilt after having been caught in the act. They'd still had to put together all the evidence and statements for the dirtbag's lawyer and the DDA. Everyone had wanted Harris to get the needle, but that would have meant going to trial and they had all wanted to spare one of their own the pain of having to testify. The deal DDA Stevens had given Harris had been the best option, putting him away for life with no chance of appeal and it ensured that the details of the case wouldn't end up all over the news, thus protecting Sharon's privacy as much as possible. No one in Vice or Robbery-Homicide had been overly eager to chat about it either, as it had been their screw-up which had lead to that situation in the first place.

Not that any of that mattered anymore. She would have to testify after all and it would turn into even more of a media circus. It would probably have been easier on her 18 years ago, before she had picked herself up and put her life back together. Her kids had been pretty young back then, maybe too young to understand much of what was happening. They wouldn't have remembered a lot. There was no chance of that now. They would hear about it and Andy knew that having to put her children through this was going to hurt her far more than the testimony itself.

His hand was still buried in her hair and he studied her as she slept peacefully. It was a miracle that she had been able to recover from that trauma as well as she had, a testament to her strength and determination. No one had expected her to come back. They had all assumed she would retire and maybe do something else at some point, if she ever worked again at all. When he had heard that she had returned to duty only two months after her rescue, it had surprised him, especially considering his own problems dealing with that incident.

Andy had been in a bad place those few months after that night. He had been haunted by what he had seen, hardly sleeping at night for fear of the nightmares. At first, he had thought he was dealing with it okay. The department shrink had cleared him without question and for a few days it had all been good. Just another ugly case – it stayed with you for a while, but after years on the force, that wasn't anything new. He couldn't remember when that had changed, but at some point the vague feeling of sadness and regret had turned into something more, something that was so dominant on his mind that he had been unable to focus on anything else.

He had tried to talk to his partner, thinking that Rodriguez had been there as well, surely he would understand. But, he hadn't understood, not really. His advice had been to go see the shrink again, but those guys didn't know anything. They were all talk and no practical experience. So he had done what he usually did – hit a bar and drowned his problems in booze. He had lost control of his life at some point, merely wandering back and forth between the job and the bottle, only sleeping when the alcohol forced him to.

And then, a few months later, he had screwed up. Some idiot suspect, who had beaten up his wife so badly that she had died from internal injuries, had ended up with a bloody nose and split lip after he had interviewed him. Of course the guy had screamed police brutality right away, triggering an investigation into his conduct that ended with him in front of Lieutenant Raydor's desk.

She had looked surprisingly well, if maybe a little thinner and paler than he had remembered. Andy recalled her being quiet, soft-spoken, the snark and sarcasm he had liked so much absent, but the way she dealt with him had been professional and firm, leaving no doubt about the fact that she was in charge. It had been awkward at first, talking to her about his issues without mentioning what had caused them and he had felt like an idiot for being too weak to deal with his problems, when she had somehow found the strength to fight hers. She had been knocked down harder than anyone could ever imagine and yet she had gotten back on her feet, had returned to work, capable and in control, while he had crawled into a bottle and couldn't find his way out.

Looking back at that time, Andy was sure that she had known what had been at the root of his escalating anger and drinking. Maybe that was the reason why she hadn't tossed him out of the force. Instead, she had made a few calls, arranging for him to go to a rehab facility in Santa Monica. She had made clear to him that he wouldn't get another chance if he screwed this one up, had told him that she believed he would be able to get through this, to get better. She had mentioned his children, how they needed him and would want him in their lives.

There had been no way for him to look at her, to see everything she had fought to accomplish despite what had happened, and claim that he couldn't do it. He had promised her to do his best, to take this chance she had given him and make the best of it and he had done just that. From that day on, whenever he had felt like turning to the bottle, Andy thought of Sharon Raydor and the trust she had put in him, her belief that he could fight his addiction. She had been his strength all these years. If he had a chance to return that favour now, he would do everything in his power to be there for her in whatever way she needed him.

At some point, Andy drifted off to sleep as well, his dreams haunted once again by old memories.

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the sharp pain in his neck. As his eyes opened to the light of the rising sun streaming into the room, he found the bed next to him empty and a soft blanket tucked around his legs. He hadn't meant to fall asleep sitting on the bed like this, but apparently the events of the day had exhausted him more than he had realized. Climbing out of bed, he gingerly stretched his neck, trying to work the kinks out as much as possible, before he made his way towards the kitchen to find Sharon. The smell of eggs and freshly brewed coffee made his mouth water and his stomach growl.

Sharon turned towards him with a soft smile on her face when he leaned his arms on the counter and watched her put scrambled eggs and toast on two plates.

"Good morning. I was just going to wake you. Do you want coffee?"

As she carried their plates over to the table, Andy took down two mugs and poured them both a cup of the strong brew before he followed her. Setting the cups down next to their plates, he put an arm around her shoulders and planted a gentle kiss into her hair, hugging her to him.

"Morning. Did you sleep okay?"

At her nod, Andy let her go and they sat down, both reaching for their coffee and inhaling the welcome scent.

"I didn't think I'd be able to at all, but yes, I slept well. Thank you, Andy."

She brushed her hand over his arm briefly, giving him a grateful look before she focused on her breakfast.

They ate in companionable silence and then cleaned up the kitchen together, as if that were something they did every day. It was still early and the fact that Sharon wore one of her business suits told him that she intended to go to work before her meeting. He wasn't sure if that was such a good idea, but there was no way he would tell her that. He probably should have known it, anyway. Sharon wouldn't neglect her duties because of a personal problem. Besides, working might focus her mind on something else for a while. However, Andy wanted to at least suggest staying home, in case she thought the team wouldn't understand.

"So, you sure you don't want to take the day off? Provenza assured me that he and the team have it covered. We could get out of town for a few hours, go somewhere with fresh air and space."

Bumping her shoulder against his arm gently, her hands still immersed in soapy water, she glanced at him quickly, a wistful expression on her face.

"That sounds wonderful, but I really should go in today. I can't let this trial dictate how I live my life. It's a working day and that means I'll go to work. It's bad enough that I have to take the afternoon off for that meeting."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as a shudder went through her body before she went on, her voice almost too quiet for him to catch her words.

"Maybe we could do that afterwards, though. I mean, if you don't have anything else you'd rather do than babysit me."

Putting the plate and dishtowel down on the counter, Andy placed his hands on her upper arms and turned her around, forcing her to face him.

"Okay, here's the deal, Sharon. You're my friend, quite possibly the best friend I have, and you're going through a rough time. There is absolutely nowhere I would rather be than right here beside you. And I'm not babysitting you. You don't need a babysitter. You're more than capable of handling this situation on your own. The thing is, you don't have to. You're not alone."

Andy saw her eyes tear up before she turned her face away and he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her until she relaxed into him, her arms wrapping around his waist. They stood like that for a while, before Sharon pulled away, her hands resting against his chest.

"I tried to reach my children earlier. Left them both a message to call me back as soon as possible. I would really like to talk to them before they hear this on the news and somehow I have a feeling that this will turn into a real mess sooner rather than later."

Looking up at him with a heartbreakingly helpless look on her face, she went on, her voice shaking.

"How am I going to tell them about this, Andy? I can hardly think about it. Putting it into words…"

He pulled her into another hug, his hand caressing her back and his tone full of confidence and reassurance.

"You will do it the same way you do everything else. You'll sit them down and tell them the facts; you'll answer their questions and make sure they don't see you sweat. And when it's over, I'll be there to help you deal with the fallout."

With another deep breath, Sharon pulled away, gave him a slightly wobbly smile and patted his chest lightly.

"Thank you, Andy. I really don't know how I would do this without you. Your support means so much to me."

He gave her a reassuring smile, before he focused on drying the dishes once more.

"You would get through this without me. Never doubt that."

Sharon got to work on the remaining dishes, casting a quick glance at her watch, trying to hide the effect his confidence in her strength had on her.

"If we hurry up, we could stop by your place so you can change. There's still time."

Andy nodded, enjoying the wonderfully domestic mood, despite everything that lay before them. There was a small voice in the back of his head that whispered treacherous thoughts to him, thoughts about more mornings like this, about time spent together doing all those ordinary things, without worrying about propriety and boundaries. It had been there for a long time, but usually, Andy tried to ignore it. What this voice suggested would most likely never happen. And yet, he couldn't help but hope that they would emerge from this crisis stronger – both individually and together.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 6**

The day went by surprisingly fast and without any of the awkward or uncomfortable looks she had expected. Sharon didn't know if Andy or Lieutenant Provenza had talked to the team or not, but no one mentioned that unfortunate scene from the day before and she was grateful for that.

The case they had caught early that morning provided a really good distraction for her, keeping the dreaded meeting at the back of her mind as she focused on coordinating the hunt for their suspect. If it hadn't been for Andy's gentle hand on her shoulder and the pointed look he threw at her watch, she probably would have missed it while poring over witness statements and prison movement records with Amy.

He handed over her blazer and gave her a searching look, one hand still resting on her shoulder.

"You need anything else?"

His voice was quiet, keeping their conversation between the two of them.

"No, thank you." She took a deep breath, covered his hand with her own and closed her eyes for a short moment to center herself. "I guess I'd better go, hmm?"

Andy nodded, an encouraging smile on his face.

"Yeah, I guess. Come on, I'll walk you over."

He let go of her shoulder and grabbed a stack of papers from his desk, waving his hand to indicate they could go. Armed with their suspect's phone records as he was, Andy didn't need to tell her that he intended to wait for her in front of Taylor's office. She should probably protest, tell him she didn't need him to act as her guard dog or whatever it was he wanted to do. The truth was that she appreciated it. Knowing he would only be a few steps away actually did make her feel better, as ridiculous as that was. She might not _need_ him to be there, but she definitely _wanted_ him to be there.

As Sharon entered Chief Taylor's office, leaving Andy to entertain the Chief's secretary, she felt her stomach drop when her eyes landed on the people who sat around the large table. She had expected a DDA and Taylor, but the presence of Deputy City Attorney Gloria Lim was a surprise – and about as comforting as seeing DDA Rios who was seated next to her.

Exchanging polite greetings with everyone, she sat down in the chair Taylor offered and took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands folded in her lap to keep them from shaking. Chief Taylor started explaining the situation to her in his usual, self-important way.

"You might have heard already that DDA Stevens was fired two weeks ago, because he was found guilty of several cases of witness tampering and planting evidence. As you can imagine, this calls into question all of the cases he has worked on in the course of his career. So far we've been lucky and only a handful of convicts have gotten wind of this. One of them unfortunately, is Jonathan Harris. He's got himself a new lawyer and their appeal was granted two days ago. Their claim is that Harris was framed by Stevens and the officers involved in the investigation of that case and that the DNA evidence against him was planted. Right now it looks as if he's going to trial within a few months. I know it's fast but everyone is eager to get this circus over with as soon as possible. The longer we have to wait for a trial, the more media coverage the case will get. Apart from Harris' lawyer, no one wants that. As all the evidence is readily available and pretty straightforward, there really isn't any reason to postpone the trial. This is where you come in."

He gestured at Rios to continue the explanation. The young woman sat up straight, shuffling some papers in front of her before she focused her attention on the Captain.

"You know how these things work, Captain. Harris' lawyer will try everything to make it appear as if his client had been treated unfairly and that he has been in prison all these years for a crime he didn't commit or at least cast severe doubt on his guilt. He will claim that Stevens planted evidence and bribed, threatened or otherwise coerced the witnesses against Harris into framing him. In order to prevent that, we'll have to make sure there are no discrepancies in any of the statements. Our best chance to put Harris away for the rest of his life is of course, your testimony. Let's start by hearing your account of the events that led up to Mr. Harris' arrest."

Sharon let her gaze travel over the three people facing her, narrowing her eyes slightly at Gloria. She still didn't know why that woman was there, but questioning her presence at this point wouldn't serve any purpose. _Stick to the facts and don't let them see you sweat_ – Andy's advice from earlier came back to her and she was determined to take it. Pulling the comfortingly familiar cloak of cold professionalism around herself, Sharon began to talk, her words chosen deliberately, and her tone calm and detached.

"In early May 1997, I was approached by Captain Mills, who ran Vice back then, about an undercover operation they were planning. As I had worked for him before I transferred to Professional Standards, I had done these kinds of operations before and, according to him, I was the type of woman their suspect was going after. They originally intended to use an officer from Vice, but she had been injured in an accident and was not fit for the job at the time.

"After discussing the particulars with Captain Mills, Captain Doyle from Robbery-Homicide and my own supervisor, my participation in the operation was approved. The case belonged to Robbery-Homicide but because it involved the rape and murder of prostitutes, Vice was involved to organize the operation. They had the relevant experience and staff for it. "

Pausing for a moment, Sharon took a sip from the water glass in front of her while she braced herself for the hard part of the story.

"The plan was for me to sit in a bar that was frequented by high class prostitutes and attract the attention of the suspect. The officers who worked the case had a vague description of the man, but so far no real evidence to warrant an arrest. The bar was where all his previous victims had been seen prior to being taken. The theory was that he found them there and lured them away under the pretext of wanting their services. His MO was always the same. He would find and kidnap a woman, hold her captive for 5 days and then dump her somewhere after soaking the body in bleach to destroy any traces he might have left. Without any useful evidence he needed to be caught with his next victim."

She drank some more water and shifted in her seat, un-crossing and re-crossing her legs.

"I was equipped with a microphone and several officers from both Vice and Robbery-Homicide were keeping an eye on the situation inside and in front of the bar. They were supposed to follow us if the suspect picked me up. Everything went according to plan. On the third day of the operation, Harris showed up. I approached him and he offered to buy me a drink. We talked for a while before he asked me if I was available that night and how much it would cost him for me to entertain him for a few hours. He said he wanted to take me to his hotel room and, after he made the customary down payment, we went to his car and drove off. I didn't realize right away that we had lost the officers assigned to follow us and I never learned what happened there."

Glancing at Taylor, Sharon thought that he should know more about that than her, since he had supervised the team that had been inside the van that was supposed to tail her. He didn't show any reaction, though. Either he hadn't caught the slight question in her tone or he didn't think it had anything to do with him. Deciding not to contemplate this question at that moment, Sharon went on, taking even more care to keep herself separated emotionally from the events she described.

"When we drove through the seedier parts of town, I joked with him about what kind of hotel he would be taking me to. He reassured me that it was just a small place, but I would like it. Once we reached the old house, it became hard to keep up the act, because no prostitute who had been around as long as my cover story suggested would enter a place like that voluntarily. I started to tell him to take me back to the city, that I wasn't some cheap street girl. He claimed that it was supposed to be romantic, that the place was a lot more comfortable inside than it looked. I let him talk for a while, before I reluctantly agreed to follow him inside. Before we entered the house, I looked around and started to wonder where the surveillance van was. They should have been close, but I couldn't spot them. It wasn't a reason for immediate concern, because they're not supposed to be so easy to make out."

Picking up the glass once again in an attempt to dislodge the lump in her throat, Sharon inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly. _Stick to the facts_, she repeated in her head, drawing strength from the words.

"The situation started to get out of hand when he found the microphone before things could get far enough for us to have anything on him. He realized right away that I was a cop and attempted to take me down. We struggled for a while, until he managed to throw me against something. I don't remember what it was but I lost consciousness. When I woke up, he had tied me to a bed. By that time it was apparent that something had gone wrong with the operation. All I could do at that point was to hope I would be found before Harris killed me. It took three days, during which Harris repeatedly assaulted me. The officer who found me was forced to incapacitate him, because he resisted arrest."

Relief washed over Sharon as she finished saying her piece. She had been able to keep her emotions out of it and to stay focused on the relevant facts, leaving the unnecessary details, those painful memories mostly undisturbed in the back of her mind. They had no place in a formal meeting.

After a moment of silence, during which the two women across from her studied their notes and some files, Rios finally began to speak, her tone condescending.

"Captain, everything you just told us can be found in the incident report. If I wanted a mere recounting of the facts, I could just as well hand the jury copies of that report. Mr. Harris' lawyer will try to convince the jury that his client is the true victim in this case, that he was framed by a dirty Deputy District Attorney and his buddies from the LAPD. He'll play the sympathy card, and right now his chances of succeeding with that tactic look pretty good. I have to make sure that doesn't happen and the only way to be sure I accomplish that is by showing them what kind of monster Harris really is. I have to play the stronger sympathy card, and that is you. I need you on the witness stand, telling those people what he did to you - all the gory details. Make them see it, make them feel it and convince them that you're not just someone Stevens bought to tell a bunch of lies."

Sharon stared at her in disbelief, unable to fully comprehend the young DDA's words. Sharon didn't see what would be gained by this when there was more than enough visual and biological evidence to prove Harris' guilt beyond a doubt. In what way would her subjective account of something that happened almost two decades ago be any more reliable or convincing than irrefutable facts?

As if she could see Sharon gearing up to protest, Rios interrupted her thoughts.

"Why don't we start with a few easy questions? You mentioned the officer who found you. Do you remember who that was?"

Sharon nodded, surprised by the change of pace and the suddenly friendly tone.

"Yes, it was a Sergeant from Robbery-Homicide, Andrew Flynn."

That information would be in the case file and she wondered why Rios asked her about it.

"Would that be the same Andrew Flynn who currently works for you, Captain?"

Frowning at the line of questioning, Sharon nodded.

"Yes, that is correct. Why is that relevant to this case?"

She was beginning to get tired of the way in which she was being treated and her impatience slipped into her voice. If she didn't know better, she would think that she was the suspect instead of a witness. However, considering the way Rios had gone after Rusty that first time she had met him, it shouldn't have surprised her.

For the first time since she had entered Gloria Lim spoke up, her voice already grating on Sharon's nerves.

"It is relevant, Captain, because the closeness between you and your knight in shining armor casts doubt on the entire story. In his statement, the Sergeant claimed that he entered the room alone, without his partner. So all we have to go on is his word and yours that Mr. Harris really was posing a threat to you or was resisting arrest. Already, the media has caught on to this thing between the two of you and it is only a matter of time until someone starts drawing conclusions. Chief, if you would?"

She gestured towards the laptop that sat in front of Taylor, who hit a few keys and turned it around towards Sharon. The screen showed a news broadcast that mentioned the Harris case, doing a short recap of former DDA Stevens' conviction, before it went into detail about the allegations against Harris. They showed a series of blurry photos from the crime scene, on which Andy was seen carrying her out of the house. Then another photo appeared, one that was much more recent and apparently taken at some other crime scene in which Sharon stood in front of Andy, one hand resting against his chest as she looked up at him with a gentle smile on her face. The reporter commented on the fact that they appeared to be very close and how nice it must be when a victim showed so much gratitude to her rescuer even years later.

Before Sharon had a chance to properly digest what she had seen, Gloria went on, her tone even more aggressive than it usually was.

"Tell me, Captain, just how grateful were you to your rescuer? I took the liberty of looking into his service record and imagine my surprise when I found countless accusations of excessive force, police brutality and even witness intimidation, not to mention his well-documented alcoholism – many of which were handled by you during your time with Professional Standards. It raises the question if you cleared him of those accusations as a favour and it makes me wonder what other favours you might have done him over the years. How long have you been covering for Lieutenant Flynn? You should know that there will be an investigation into this, so it would be in your best interest not to lie to me, because I will find out."

Rage started to course through Sharon's veins at those baseless accusations of both her and Andy's conduct. It rendered her completely speechless, wondering how she was even supposed to respond to that without losing her professional façade. She was still trying to find the right words, any words, when DDA Rios picked up Gloria's line of questioning.

"We need full disclosure here, Captain, because once Harris' lawyer gets his hands on this information, he will ask the same questions. He will also challenge the Lieutenant's statement on why he shot Harris and what he saw when he entered the room. He will claim that his client found you in that house and was just about to cut your ties when Lieutenant Flynn entered and mistook him for the person who had hurt you. He will tell the jury that Flynn shot an innocent man, who only wanted to help and that he and DDA Stevens then intimidated Mr. Harris into confessing to a crime he did not commit and convinced you to corroborate their statement. It's only natural that you did, considering your relationship to Flynn.

"You surely realize that your sleeping with one of your subordinates only lends credence to the claims of the defense that Harris did not rape you at all, that it was you who seduced him into sleeping with you in an attempt to get information out of him."

She couldn't breathe. It was all too much. They were talking at her, but she couldn't understand them. Their words pried at that door at the back of her mind, the one she had tried so hard to keep closed, the one that stood between her and darkness and despair. For the second time in 24 hours the walls seemed to close in on her. She needed to get away, out. _Run_. Pushing the chair back hard enough to make it fall over, Sharon stood and rushed out of the door, ignoring the outraged voices behind her, the people she passed. _Run_. The walls kept coming closer and her vision narrowed, growing dark at the edges. She needed air, space. _Run_. She didn't know where she was going, didn't care. Just out, away from them, from the darkness. _Run_.

"Captain Raydor."

Those words, spoken like an order, made her stop instinctively and spin around, wide-eyed and gasping for breath. One of her hands reached out for something to hold onto as her knees started to buckle, but a pair of strong arms caught her before she could fall, drawing her into a solid chest. She struggled against the confining hold, feeling trapped and claustrophobic. The walls were still threatening to crush her. She had to keep running, but she couldn't. The arms wouldn't let her. They tied her down, helpless, unable to escape. Why wouldn't they let her run? Air, she needed air, couldn't breathe. The darkness was coming after her and she couldn't get away. Tied down, so painful, helpless. Whimpers, soft cries – possibly hers, she didn't know. She fought against the darkness, tried to keep it from overwhelming her. It was so hard. Too hard. She couldn't remember. Why would they make her remember?

"I can't remember. I can't remember. Please, don't make me remember."

The words, spoken between desperate sobs and devastating whimpers, broke Andy's heart. He held onto her as if he could shield her from the pain but she struggled against him. Still, he kept her in his arms until she stopped fighting and let herself fall against him, sobbing uncontrollably, her entire body shaking. He was glad that the corridor was empty at the moment.

Looking around, Andy saw the door to the staircase only a few feet away. Slowly navigating them through it, he relaxed slightly. At least they wouldn't be found here. No one ever took the stairs in this building unless the elevators were down.

Caressing Sharon's back gently and mumbling soothing words into her hair, Andy closed his eyes against the burning of his own tears.

He didn't know how long they stood like that but eventually Sharon calmed down. She still trembled slightly but her breathing was returning to normal and the tears appeared to have stopped. Relaxing his arms slightly, he buried his nose in her hair, planting a soft kiss against her temple as he inhaled her scent and let it calm his tumultuous emotions in order to prepare for the conversation they would have to have. He needed to know what had happened, if there were issues that had to be dealt with.

When she sniffed and raised a hand to wipe at her eyes, Andy retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. Stepping back a little, Sharon took care of the mess that was her face, removing her tears and ruined makeup, looking up at him for confirmation when she was done. He nodded, indicating that she looked as presentable as a tissue would get her. Taking the handkerchief from her and putting it back in its place, Andy placed a gentle hand against the small of her back and guided her out of the door and into the hallway after making sure that it was empty. They walked the few steps towards the elevators and got into the thankfully empty car when it arrived. Sharon gave him a questioning look as he ushered her inside.

"Where are you taking me?"

She knew that someone would come looking for her soon. The way she had run out of the meeting wouldn't have gone over well with Taylor. She should probably go back and explain herself but the thought of facing him, Rios and Gloria Lim and their questions made her breath catch in her throat once again. She just couldn't do it. Watching Andy as he pressed the button for the top floor – the roof – Sharon felt better immediately.

"We're going to get some fresh air and privacy."

He sounded determined and she knew him well enough to detect tightly controlled anger underneath his calm exterior. It felt good to have someone on her side after what had just happened and she allowed herself to lean into him, seeking the comfort and security he offered.

"We're going to hide?"

Her tone held a note of amusement at the thought. It was a little ridiculous to think they could run away from Taylor and this entire situation, but at that moment it was exactly what she needed.

"Yep, we're going to hide. Got a problem with that, Captain?"

Picking up on her attempt to lighten the mood, Andy gave her a mischievous smile, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She rested her head against his chest, trying to let go of her tension. Her hands were still shaking slightly, but at least she didn't tremble all over anymore.

"Not at all, Lieutenant. Lead the way."

Once they reached the rooftop, the warm LA air hitting their faces, Sharon could finally breathe freely. They sat down on the concrete frame of one of the air vents, shoulders touching. Andy put his arm around her and drew her against his side, her head resting on his chest, his cheek settling on top of her head.

They sat in silence for a while before she began to tell him about the meeting. Her voice was quiet, heavy with barely suppressed emotions. His anger grew with every word she spoke, making him want to march into Taylor's office and add another incident to his oh so impressive jacket. He didn't mind them going after him. It had happened so many times over the years that he was used to it. But questioning Sharon's conduct, asking her all those questions and insinuating that she was involved in framing Harris – that was too much. He wouldn't stand for that. But as much as he wanted to call them on this himself, Andy knew that he wouldn't be able to keep his anger in check. He would say or do something stupid and that would only end up hurting Sharon even more. Besides, they already suspected that something was going on between them. Storming in there and defending Sharon's honour would do very little to disprove their theory.

Andy rubbed her arms in a comforting gesture before he put a little distance between them in order to catch her eyes.

"Why don't you stop by a bathroom to splash some water on your face while I call Provenza and get some things settled, and then we can get out of here, okay? How about we head out into the mountains or something? Take a walk somewhere where there are no people around?"

She hummed quietly. The thought of enjoying a few rare moments of solitude with him was heavenly. Being away from murder and violence and people who questioned the nature of their relationship, who counted how often they looked at one another or touched or how close they stood – that was exactly what she needed and she was grateful to have a friend who recognized that need.

Andy put his arms around her once again, enjoying their closeness for a moment longer, before they had to leave. Thinking about the steps that needed to be taken, he was confident that his partner would be able to deal with Taylor. He would tell Louie about the meeting and then let the old man loose. That should give them a little time. Maybe Sanchez could bring their stuff down to the parking garage. That way they could avoid running into Taylor or Rios. They wouldn't be able to postpone that confrontation indefinitely, but he hoped that a little time away would help Sharon be ready when it came to that. And if Provenza got really angry, he might even be able to arrange for some changes that would make things easier for her.

Somehow, he had thought that the worst would be behind her after this meeting, but it seemed as if it was only the beginning. He just hoped that she would allow him to help her, that she wouldn't push him away when the going got really tough. For the moment, she seemed content to accept him by her side and he drew comfort from that.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 7**

Lieutenant Provenza let his fist thump onto his desk hard enough to hurt as he ended the phone call. The moment he had seen Flynn's name on the display, he had known that it wouldn't be anything good and once again he had been right. Cursing under his breath, he called Sanchez over to him. He didn't want everyone on the floor to hear what the Detective was about to do. Better make sure Flynn and Raydor got out of the building before anyone knew about it. The last thing they needed was Taylor going after them and running into Andy. With Julio's issues, they had seen more than enough of FID lately.

"Listen, Julio, I need you to get the Captain's purse from her office and Flynn's wallet and keys out of his desk drawer and take them to the parking garage. They'll wait for you at Flynn's usual spot. Make sure Taylor doesn't see you."

The younger man nodded and went to do as he was asked. It was something Provenza appreciated about him. He never asked too many stupid questions. He watched Sanchez dig through Andy's drawer, retrieve the requested items and enter the Captain's office. The door had just closed behind him when Mike coughed next to him, nodding towards the approaching form of an obviously agitated Assistant Chief.

Provenza stood to face him, waving his hand behind his back, signaling Tao to take care of Julio while he got Taylor out of the way. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Detective through the open blinds and it looked like he had noticed they had company, because the next moment he was gone from sight. Trusting Mike and Julio to handle getting their colleagues' things to them, the older Lieutenant greeted their superior with false enthusiasm.

"Chief Taylor, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

The unpleasant expression on the other man's face was indication enough that he was in no mood for games.

"Oh, I bet you know exactly why I'm here. Where is Captain Raydor?"

Narrowing his eyes at Taylor, he gestured towards the small conference room next to the Captain's office.

"She's not here, but there are a few things we should talk about and I believe we should do that in private."

At the Chief's obvious unwillingness to go along with him, Provenza went on.

"If you want to know where Captain Raydor is, you'll have to come with me. We're not going to talk about any of that out here."

He realized that he was playing with fire, skirting the edge of insubordination, but this wouldn't be the first time he got called down to PSB for a chat about respect and proper conduct towards superior officers. At least this time it would be for a good cause.

To his surprise, Taylor actually went along with his suggestion, walking down the corridor towards the conference room. Provenza knew that Julio would slip out of the Captain's office as soon as they were around the corner and as long as he kept the Chief busy, there was no danger of the younger man running into him. Once the door closed behind them, Taylor swung around to face him, his expression full of anger and impatience. Provenza was having none of that, though. He was pretty pissed off himself and didn't mind letting the other man know about it, speaking before he could even open his mouth.

"Rios? Seriously? That was the best they could do?"

A look of triumph on his face, Taylor turned smug, convinced he had the Lieutenant exactly where he wanted him.

"Aha, so you did talk to her. I knew it. Now, you better tell me where I can find her, before this situation gets any more out of control than it already has."

Dropping the last pretense of respect, Provenza glared at the man in front of him, his tone the same he liked to use with suspects occasionally.

"I don't know where she is, but I can assure you that she's not going to come back today. She's in no condition to continue that friendly little chat you had. Your friends Rios and Lim made sure of that. Who had the brilliant idea to give this case to Rios, anyway? Everyone knows there's no love lost between her and the Captain and we've all seen how subtle she is when questioning witnesses. And Gloria Lim? What the hell was she doing there? Why didn't you invite Pope and the Mayor, too? Offer some popcorn and make it a party. As if it isn't bad enough that she has to go through all this crap again after all these years. The least you could have done is show some respect towards a fellow officer and let her get through this with her dignity intact."

He was not done talking – far from it, in fact – but apparently Taylor was done listening for the moment. He interrupted the Lieutenant, his tone defensive as he made his outrage about these accusations known.

"Now wait a minute. I didn't have anything to do with this. The DA assigned the case to Rios and the City Attorney decided that an investigation into the way the case was handled, especially into the relationship between the two main witnesses, is necessary to make sure there aren't any avenues open for a lawsuit. I merely hosted the meeting. And while the way those questions were asked might have been a little unfortunate, getting them answered is important to make sure this case doesn't blow up in our faces. I'm sorry it makes her uncomfortable, but the Captain will have to pull herself together and face this. Her refusal to cooperate doesn't look good for her or the department."

Louie Provenza didn't often get truly angry. People and situations frequently annoyed him, but it had been a very long time since he had last felt the kind of rage that made him want to punch someone.

"Uncomfortable? We're not talking about getting a lecture from the Pope on piling up too much overtime. She went through a hell worse than either one of us could ever imagine. Talking about that, years after she has finally put it behind her, isn't just _uncomfortable_ and having to listen to the things Lim and Rios accused her of isn't merely _unfortunate_. With all the biological evidence that was found at the crime scene I don't understand why she has to go through this at all, when the DNA they secured at the hospital should be more than enough to nail him. Instead, they throw all these accusations at her. Since when do we treat victims like criminals?"

"No one is treating anyone like a criminal. However, the fact remains that there are only two people who were present when Captain Raydor was found and Harris was shot, and those two people are in a pretty close relationship. It leaves plenty of room for Harris' lawyer to attack, especially in light of the charges against DDA Stevens."

Provenza couldn't believe the nerve of the man.

"And whose fault is it that there were no witnesses to the Captain's rescue? Or that she even needed rescuing in the first place?"

Taylor almost recoiled from the older man, his demeanor suddenly cautious as he asked for clarification.

"What are you talking about, Lieutenant?"

Here we go, Provenza thought. She'd better appreciate this.

"I'm talking about the fact that two of the guys you should have supervised screwed up. Beyer and McKenzie were in the van and supposed to follow Harris and Raydor. They were too busy playing cards to keep their eyes on the door of the bar and they never saw them leave. They didn't lose them in traffic as they claimed and you know about it. You covered their asses, because their mistake would have looked bad for you, too. If it hadn't been for their stupidity, we wouldn't even be in this situation. So I suggest we think about how we can make it better for Captain Raydor."

Caution had given away to shock and if he wasn't mistaken, a little bit of fear. It gave Provenza an odd sense of satisfaction. He hadn't intended to ever use the information he had gotten from a drunk Sergeant Beyer at Robinson's retirement dinner two years ago. They had talked and the conversation had moved to the topic of Taylor and some of his latest blunders when the other man had started in on how he had always despised the guy, thought he was a much better ass-kisser than cop. However, he had never been able to say anything, because Taylor had had dirt on him. Then he had told him about how Taylor had covered for him and his partner, how he had helped them come up with a believable tale and made them stick to it. The two officers had felt guilty for their part in how things had ended up, but once the story had been out there and Taylor had been on record backing them up, there had been no way out of it anymore.

When he had heard it, Provenza's first instinct had been to march into Pope's office and let him know what kind of person he promoted to Assistant Chief. He was the last person who deserved that job. Taylor and Raydor had started out together and while Taylor had slithered up the ranks by sucking up to anyone within reach, Raydor had worked hard, had always done her absolute best, despite raising two children with a gambling, drinking husband who was absent more often than he was not. When the position as head of Robbery-Homicide had opened up, they had both applied. Raydor had been the more qualified officer, but there had been doubts about her fitness due to her traumatic experience years before. They had given the job to the resident ass kisser instead, promoting him to Captain. Raydor's promotion had come years later, when Captain Adams had retired and they made her head of Professional Standards.

And then they screwed her over again when she was transferred to Major Crimes. That should have come with a long overdue promotion to Commander, but they blamed the promotions freeze. Somehow that hadn't affected Taylor. That snake always landed on his feet and Provenza had itched to take him down a notch. Ultimately, he had decided against it. Opening an investigation into Taylor's conduct during that operation would have dragged the entire incident back into everyone's minds, bringing painful memories back for no other purpose than to satisfy his own need to see Taylor sweat. It wouldn't have been right.

Now, he finally had a good reason to use the information without causing his Captain any additional pain. If it all worked out, it might even do some good and make things a little easier for her.

"It's all pretty simple. We both know how it would look if information about your involvement in this entire mess were to get out. We'd all have to put up with a load of crap from the press and from lawyers and FID would be snooping around and you know how I feel about FID. Neither one of us wants any of that, so let's make a deal."

At Taylor's reluctant nod, Provenza outlined the conditions for his continued silence on the matter of the Chief's misconduct.

"You'll pick up the phone and call the DA and you will make him understand that if he wants the case against Harris to end with a conviction, he'll have to assign another DDA to it – preferably Hobbs, because she has the necessary sensitivity and the Captain is comfortable with her. And then you'll put a muzzle on our friend Gloria. I have no idea what she's trying to accomplish by turning the two prime witnesses in that case into suspects, but it has to stop. If there's absolutely no way around those stupid questions and she feels brave enough, she can question Flynn about the nature of his relationship with the captain, but it would be in her own best interest to keep those questions respectful. We both know how protective he gets and how short his fuse can be. From now on, we will all go out of our way to make this trial as easy as possible on Raydor."

Taylor thought the Lieutenant's words over for a moment. It wasn't as if he had liked the way the meeting had gone but interfering with the affairs of the DA or the City Attorney usually was not a good idea. It tended to lead to complaints to the Chief of Police or the Mayor and that never looked good for anyone. Provenza had given him a convincing reason to act and being called out for protecting one of his officers was definitely better than the alternative. It bugged him that the old man had dirt on him, but it couldn't be changed. He would find a way to spin it all in a way that would be advantageous for him. It was something he was very good at, after all.

"Alright. I'm sure I can convince Hobbs to take the case. Rios won't like it, but she'll get over it. I'm afraid we won't get rid of Gloria that easily. There's a huge potential for this to turn into a lawsuit and we need to make sure that there's nothing they can use against any of us. I'll talk to her and try to make her understand the sensitive nature of this case, but I can tell you right now that she's going to want to talk to Lieutenant Flynn, if she can't get Captain Raydor to sit down with her again. And I need him to cooperate with her. We need her on our side. Make sure Flynn understands that. You can tell Raydor to expect a call from Hobbs or someone else from the DA's office tomorrow. She better be ready to talk to them."

Pointing a finger at Provenza to emphasize his last point, Taylor turned on his heel and walked out, not even bothering to wait for an answer. The Lieutenant was rather satisfied with the outcome of their little chat. Wandering back into the Murder Room and over to his desk, he cast a questioning glance at Julio, who gave him a short nod, confirming the success of their little stealth operation.

Once he was settled in his chair, he picked up his phone and began the painful process of typing a message to Flynn, letting him know how the talk with Taylor had gone. Provenza preferred actually talking to people instead of sending text messages. Talking was faster and far more efficient, but he was willing to make an exception today to give those two a little privacy. The things he did for his friends…

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 8**

They didn't talk for most of the drive, both of them using the time to sort through their thoughts. Andy had stopped at a small café on the way, claiming he needed a coffee and something to eat. Before they had left work, he had suggested Sharon take the gym bag she usually kept in the trunk of her car so she could put on something more comfortable in case they decided to take a walk. She had changed into a pair of black track pants, a grey LAPD t-shirt and sneakers while he had bought coffee and cake for both of them.

He liked this café because they offered sample boxes for those who couldn't decide which cake or cookie they wanted. It was a collection of small, bite-sized versions of most of the things they sold and it was ideal for what Andy had in mind.

Something he had learned about Sharon months ago was that, when she was really upset, she didn't eat chocolate like most women he knew. She preferred cake or cookies or even sweet pastries, all the things she usually didn't eat because they were unhealthy. On a really bad day, however, she would often bake a tray of brownies or macarons and eat enough of them to feel slightly sick to her stomach, but it never failed to raise her mood. He hoped that the little box of treats would do the same now, and if her tiny smile when she had seen it on their way back to the car was any indication, it just might.

Sharon hadn't known where exactly Andy wanted to take her but as they drove through Santa Monica, along the coast and then up into the hills, she had gotten an idea. He had found a spot to leave the car close to the head of a small, quiet trail and, packing a blanket and their snacks into a bag, he had taken her hand and led her up the trail.

They walked in silence for a long time, both more than happy simply to enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful landscape around them. Already, the oppressive feeling caused by the impending trial and the meeting with Rios and Lim was beginning to lift and with every step and every breath she felt better. When they reached a meadow a while later, Andy led her towards a large tree under which they spread the blanket and sat down, his back against the trunk and her settling between his legs, leaning against his chest. He opened the cardboard box and held it out for her to choose a piece.

Her suspicion had been right; he had indeed picked up a selection of her favourite comfort food. She took one of the small, dark, juicy brownies and leaned back, letting her eyes take in the view as she enjoyed the rich taste. The day was not clear enough for them to see the ocean very well, but Sharon knew that it was there, in the distance, and soon they would be bathed in the warm, orange hues of the sunset.

She was amazed at how well Andy knew her. Without having to tell him, he had been and done exactly what she needed from the moment this nightmare started. He was one of very few people she knew who did not have a problem with silence, with just sitting next to each other without talking. Sharon enjoyed that on any given day, but when she was really troubled, she needed time and space to think it all through, to figure out how she felt about it and what she wanted to do. That didn't always mean that she wanted to be alone. More and more often these days, she found herself longing for his quiet presence in these moments. They were very similar in this respect, both needing to push a thought around in their heads before they were able to talk about it with someone else. Jack had never understood that. He abhorred silence, always quick to fill it with jokes or awkward attempts at conversation. She had never been comfortable around him when she was troubled, had always retreated into solitude, thus making him think her cold and distant. She had loved him once, still cared about him as the father of her children, but they had never truly fit, their goals and dreams never quite compatible, at least not after the first few years.

It had taken her 57 years to find a man who truly understood her, who was willing to accept her with all her quirks, who cared enough to take notice of what she needed. Sharon was far from oblivious to the closeness between them, to the emotions that went far beyond mere friendship. She knew that he was interested in more, could see it in the way he looked at her sometimes, in those unguarded moments. She wished she had the courage to explore those feelings, to let herself fall and trust that he would catch her. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, because she did, more than anyone else and she always had. Her own ability to let go of her demons, to not let the scars of the past taint present joy – that was another matter. It had happened before. Now that she had finally thought herself brave enough to try again, the past reared its ugly head once more, opening old wounds and bringing back memories she had tried hard to keep away.

Leaning forward, Sharon pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest, her chin resting on top as she stared into the distance, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was so tired of fighting. The gentle hand caressing her back was a comfort, an anchor, and she let it ground her, drawing strength from the soft touch and the wordless support of its owner.

"Will it ever stop, Andy? How much more drama am I supposed to take? Just when I thought things were finally calming down with Rusty and Stroh and Weller. Stroh's escape was bad enough, but we all just settled down again now that Rusty finally agreed to at least _some _of the security measures I suggested. What is this going to do to my children? I haven't even been able to reach them yet. So far, the reports on the news haven't been very detailed, but that's going to change. What if they hear that on the news or someone else tells them before I get a chance to talk to them? I'm so tired, Andy. I can't fight anymore. I just can't."

The tears kept falling and Sharon did not know how to stop them. It was all too much. She was aware that giving up was not an option, but at that moment, she had no strength left in her. She felt his hands on her arms as he pulled her back against his chest, his arms holding her securely. He whispered soft words into her ear, promising her to be there, to help her fight, reassuring her that she would get through this, that she was strong enough.

When the tears finally stopped and she could breathe a little easier, he planted a brief, comforting kiss against her temple.

"You have a Skype date with your kids at seven tomorrow morning. I took the liberty of hunting them down while you were in the meeting. They might file a complaint with you about my bossiness, but I figured they'd be used to it from dealing with you all their lives. Seven am works best for all. It's before Rusty and Ricky leave for classes and work and Emily will be at least partly conscious."

His tone was casual, as if he were telling her about the weather instead of informing her that he'd just gone and solved one of her biggest concerns. Turning her head to look at him wide-eyed, she wondered how this man could be so wonderful.

"How did you… I tried calling them all day."

He gave her a smile that was a little on the cocky side and it made her own lips respond.

"Well, I asked Rusty for their numbers and left them both a message telling them to call me back within the hour or I would send the local PD after them. Worked like a charm. Didn't take them more than ten minutes to pick up a phone."

She stared at him in disbelief, her mouth opening, but the words took a while to come to her.

"You didn't!" Hesitating a moment while she took in the glint in his eyes and his broad smile, she changed her mind about that. "Of course you did. Andy, you can't…" She couldn't help it, the thought of him having the NYPD drag her daughter out of rehearsals made her laugh. Once it had bubbled up, she couldn't stop the laughter anymore. It shook her entire body, making her stomach ache and tears run down her cheeks once more. For a short moment Sharon wondered if it was hysteria, if she was finally losing her mind, but she felt too good to give it much thought. Andy held her gently, his arms wrapped around her, resting on her stomach as his own chest vibrated with laughter.

She did eventually calm down again. Leaning her head back against his chest, Sharon turned her face into his neck, still grinning. She hadn't laughed like that in a very long time and it had dissolved most of the tension inside her. It would return soon enough, but for the moment, in this quiet place with this incredible man, she could let go of her worries and she was endlessly grateful to him for giving her this gift. Inhaling his familiar, comforting scent, she gave voice to the awe she felt whenever she considered their friendship.

"What did I do to deserve you, Andy?"

He chuckled into her hair, his arms tightening slightly around her, his voice full of humour, but with an underlying note of seriousness.

"I don't know. Must've been something really bad, though."

Sharon turned slightly to look up at him, one hand resting on his chest, the other caressing his cheek, her shock and dismay at his words evident in her expression and tone.

"Why would you say something like that? Don't even joke about it, Andy. Your friendship is the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time. To have someone in my life who truly understands me and doesn't demand more than I can give – you have no idea what that means to me."

Andy didn't know what to say. Her words touched a place inside him that he had never revealed to anyone. Once the first years of his marriage had passed, he had realized that he simply wasn't what Amanda had needed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't be that person for her. Somehow, he had always been a cop first and her husband second. By the time the kids had come around, he had already been on the way towards that downward spiral of disappointment, work, drink and more disappointment. Amanda had finally found the right man a few years after their divorce, but Andy had been resigned to always being a cop and nothing else. And yet, he had longed to one day be the kind of man a woman could lean on, the kind of man she turned to for comfort and reassurance, for a safe place and peace. He never thought it would actually happen, least of all with a woman like Sharon. All he could do was hold her close and hope she knew how much her words meant to him, how much he appreciated her trust in him.

Thinking about his past made him consider something else. He hated to bring it up, to drag the trial back into their minds and destroy the moment of levity, but it was something that needed to be discussed. At the very least she would have to think about it and decide what she wanted to do about it.

"Does Jack know about what happened? About the Harris case?"

It was no secret that Andy was not exactly one of Jack Raydor's biggest fans, but no matter what had happened between he and Sharon during the decades of their troubled marriage and despite the fact that she had finally cut that last tie, the man shouldn't be blindsided by this. No one deserved that.

Sharon sighed and closed her eyes in an attempt to hold on to the peaceful moment, but reality once again burst her comfortable little bubble. She couldn't fault Andy for bringing it up. In all honesty, she hadn't even thought about Jack in all of this. Her children, her parents, her colleagues and friends, yes, but her ex-husband hadn't even entered her mind. That Andy was the one to mention him should surprise her, but it didn't. He might not like Jack, but he had an astonishing capacity for empathy.

Andy could not know that he had accidentally poked at another very sore spot with his question. Thoughts of Jack in relation to the Harris case were just another giant can of worms she would rather leave untouched. Maybe it was time to face it, though, to be completely open with Andy. After all he had done for her, with everything he was doing for her, he deserved nothing less, no matter how difficult it would be to talk about.

"Yes, he knows."

She paused for a while, trying to find a way to share that part of her life that, in many ways, was harder and more painful than those three horrible days that led up to it.

"He came home a day after I was released from the hospital. My sister had taken care of Ricky and Emily, but she wasn't feeling very well herself at the time. She had called Jack's brother, who had tracked Jack down. I don't know what he said to him, but Jack came home to help out with the children and make sure I'd be okay. He tried to be what I needed, he really did, but in the end he couldn't."

_Jack hovered over her. Wherever she turned, he was there, worry on his face and always ready to take her work out of her hands. The first few days, she appreciated his willingness to do the laundry, to cook dinner or to carry Ricky back to bed when he wandered around at night. She just hurt too much to do it. Her injuries weren't too bad, they had told her – nothing that wouldn't heal with a little time. Most of the scars would fade after a few years, they'd said. Sharon tried not to think about that. She wore clothes that covered her arms and legs and a scarf that hid the long, angry cut on her throat. She didn't look into the mirror anymore; not after that first time when she had seen her ghost-like appearance, the light gone from her eyes, deep, dark circles underneath them, her skin pale with an unattractive, grey tone to it. She had studied her body, cataloguing the scars, every single one of them, until they were burned into the back of her mind. Then she had been sick, losing what little she had managed to eat that day. _

_After that night, she had just pushed it all away. Her children were hungry; they needed clean clothes and help with their homework. They wanted to be taken to and from baseball practice and dance classes and they had friends stay over. Life went on. It didn't stop just because Sharon had had a few bad days. She threw herself into it, burying herself in all those routine tasks, refusing to think about what had happened to her. _

_They told her that she had to talk to a psychologist to get cleared for duty, but she didn't feel like it, didn't see what good it would do to discuss those events. She was all right. Her injuries were painful, but that would pass and it was manageable with the pills they'd given her. She didn't think about it, she didn't dream about it, she wasn't scared of leaving the house. She was fine. _

_Things started to crumble around her three weeks after she got home. Sharon realized that she had missed her period. At first she ignored it, put it down to stress and the medication. As the days passed, she became more and more uneasy, however. Jack mentioned it several times, pointing out that she was jumpy and irritable, asking her if she didn't think it would be a good idea to talk to someone. He wanted to help, she knew, but his constant presence behind her, next to her or at the very least within sight of her made Sharon's skin crawl. She felt crowded in her own house, a sense of claustrophobia lingering inside her. Whenever Jack reached out to her, she pulled away, putting as much space between them as possible without being too obvious about it._

_Sharon noticed that he was getting frustrated with her refusal to talk, to let him help her, but she couldn't change it. Words were too hard to find and she couldn't stand the thought of letting him comfort her any other way. It helped that he was there, that he was willing to take over some of the work around the house and with the children, but it wasn't enough to make him feel useful. He had never understood that sometimes all she needed was for him to be around, to lend quiet support without getting too close. That had always been a problem between them, the reason for many of their fights and it made their current arrangement difficult to deal with. The fact that she had asked him to stay in the guest room didn't help__either, but she couldn't stand the thought of sharing the bed with him. Jack tended to end up holding her close whenever they did, a habit she used to love about him. The feeling of his arms around her and his solid form behind her had always given her a sense of safety and happiness. Now the idea scared her, waking up to be trapped against someone, to feel another person's breath against her skin – it made her shiver, bile rising in her throat at the mere thought. He had said that he understood, but how could he? How could he know the terror that his hand on her arm evoked? How could he comprehend that she had to suppress a scream every time she turned around to find him too close?_

_Then the nausea started. That first morning, she barely made it to the bathroom in time. After that, it became her constant companion for a few days, turning the thought of food into torture. Sharon knew that she should get a test, find out for sure and then think about what she wanted to do about it, but as long as she didn't have any proof, it wasn't real. It was simply too much to consider. Jack tried his best to make her eat, to get her to see her doctor and get some much needed answers, to convince her of talking to a psychologist, but she just pulled away more. With every time she withdrew from him, his frustration rose and Sharon knew that he would reach the limit of what he could take soon. He would run away like he had done so many times. It was a miracle that he had stayed put for so long. A part of her wanted to push him away, to make him leave, but another part was scared of being alone, of being rejected by him. _

_She got her wish only a few days later, four and a half weeks after coming home. After getting the children to settle down for the night, Sharon had left to take a shower and retire to her bedroom, craving solitude more than anything else after a long day. The hot water did little to relieve the tension in her muscles as her hands hurriedly brushed over her body, never lingering anywhere longer than absolutely necessary. She flinched every time she caught sight of or felt one of the more prominent scars. There was an area on her hips that was especially tender, the skin not healed yet. _

_As her thoughts lingered on the way her once flawless skin would carry reminders of those three days of hell for the rest of her life, anger began to well up inside her. She wanted to scream, to punch someone, but there was no one there to turn her anger towards but herself. Digging her fingers into the barely healed flesh of her hips, she whimpered at the sharp sting of pain, but she didn't let go, pressed harder until her entire body throbbed in agony. It was the most she had felt in over a month and she couldn't let go of it, held onto the sensation as if it were a lifeline. _

_Dark spots started to dance in front of her eyes and breathing became more and more difficult, yet she didn't released her grip. Her body started shaking with pain and exhaustion, but she kept clawing at herself. The water that swirled around her feet turned pink as her nails broke the half-healed skin and she watched, fascinated, as her blood mixed with the water one drop at a time, until it all became too blurry to see. She thought she could taste it, coppery and warm and suddenly the nausea was back, forcing her from the shower and across the bathroom. In her hurry to make it to the toilet, Sharon slipped on the wet tiles, arms flailing, searching for something to hold on to. She grabbed the shelf next to the sink, but her fingers couldn't hold onto it, dragging the assortment of bottles and decorative articles to the ground with her in an almost deafening crash. Ignoring the mess and the sharp pain in her knees, Sharon managed to crawl the rest of the way, ridding herself of the few bites she had had for dinner._

_Sinking to the floor, exhausted and shivering from the cold air on her wet skin, she didn't hear Jack's voice on the other side of the door. She didn't notice him opening the door, nor his shocked gasp as he saw her. The feeling of a soft towel being draped around her shoulders made her jump and scurry across the floor away from the unexpected touch. Cowering in the corner between the toilet and the wall, Sharon stared at him wide-eyed. He just stared at her, helpless, but as he took in her battered form, she saw revulsion in his eyes before he averted them, bending to pick up the towel and hand it to her, careful not to startle her again. She reached out to take it from his grasp and wrapped it around herself. Once she was covered, he crouched down in front of her, reaching out a hand to help her up. He couldn't look at her, his gaze fixed at some place behind her. After a few moments of hesitation, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, his other hand gently holding onto her arm to steady her until he was certain she could stand on her own. _

_Guiding her across the hall to the bedroom, Jack turned her slightly to look at her, still unable to meet her eyes._

"_Are you okay? Do you want me to take a look at those scratches for you?" _

_He nodded towards her hips where the rough texture of the towel made her fresh wounds sting unpleasantly. What hurt a lot more than her self-inflicted injuries was the way her husband couldn't face her, the way her body seemed to disgust him. She shook her head trying to keep her emotions bottled up, frightened of the result if she let herself feel. She could sense it all building up underneath her skin, a giant explosion waiting to happen. Jack squeezed her arm lightly, a completely platonic touch, conveying regret and pity, before he turned to leave. _

_At the sight of his retreating form, something snapped apart inside her. Taking a quick step after him, she grabbed his arm and whirled him around, glaring at him angrily. For a moment, there was fear in his eyes before they nervously flitted across the room, never lingering on her for more than a few seconds. Sharon shoved him away, both hands pushing against his chest to make him stumble backwards. She tugged at the towel and let it slip to the ground, baring herself to her husband, her voice shaking with rage._

"_Don't you dare walk out on me again. Look at me, Jack!"_

_When he still refused to raise his eyes from the ground, she screamed at him._

"_Look at me!"_

_He finally did as he was told, but it was obvious that he didn't want to, that he would rather not see and keep pretending that it was just another one of their little rough patches and that he would be able to make it all go away with a grin and a few jokes. Sharon wished that he could, that all it would take for her to move past this was a good laugh, but she knew better, they both did. She needed him to face reality and more than anything, she needed him to truly see her the way she was right at that moment and accept her. She needed him to look at her scarred body, at the traces left by another man, and love her despite all of that. She longed to feel safe in his arms, to feel his tender touch erase the echoes of agony and terror, to find, through his love, a way to accept herself the way she was now._

_Stepping into his personal space, Sharon grasped his shirt, twisting the fabric in her desperate grip as she pulled him against her, wishing she could melt into him, be surrounded by him, safely hidden away inside him. She captured his mouth with her lips, her tongue and teeth begging for him to open up to her, to return her kiss, to breathe life into her. Jack didn't react for a moment, his body tense and unyielding, before he placed gentle hands on her upper arms, pushed her away from him and shook his head, eyes on the ground between them._

"_I can't do this. I'm sorry, Sharon, but I can't."_

_He let his gaze wander over her body quickly, lingering on the worst of her scars, before he looked at the floor again, his lips curling slightly in disgust._

"_I wish I could help you, but this… Looking at you and being reminded what happened… I can't. I'm sorry."_

_There were tears in his eyes and genuine regret in his expression as he turned and walked away, ignoring her anguished cry of his name. When the door closed behind him, Sharon sank to the floor, whimpering quietly as she curled up around her shattered heart. Her body trembled with cold and pain and tension, but she didn't cry. The tears still wouldn't come. Her lips tirelessly formed words. They sounded like screams inside her head, but were really no more than a broken whisper. _

Don't go. I need you.

_Sharon didn't know how long she had been on the floor, but at some point she picked herself up, slipped into a fluffy bathrobe, and wandered out into the kitchen. Taking the bottle of Vicodin from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinets, she carried it into the living room, setting it onto the coffee table, before she retrieved a bottle of bourbon and a glass from the sideboard. Sinking into the soft cushions of the large leather sofa, she opened the small orange container and shook out two pills, craving the numbness they would provide._

_She stared at the white ovals in her hand, contemplating their promise of relief, the possibility of permanent oblivion. So easy to just slip a few pills, wash them down with bourbon, the sharp burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat the last sensation. So easy. So tempting. It would deliver what her husband had refused to give her – a refuge from the prison of her memories. _

_Shaking the rest of the pills into her hand, she weighed them, taking a last deep breath to gather determination around her like a cloak. _

"_Mommy?"_

_Sharon instinctively curled her hand around the proof of her weakness, turning towards the open living room door and her bleary-eyed daughter. Emily approached carefully, sitting on the couch next to her. She put her small hands around her mother's fist and held on tightly, her head resting against her shoulder. _

_Her free hand went into her daughter's dark, unruly hair, caressing it gently. A few minutes later, Sharon carefully extracted her hand from Emily's grip, put the pills back into their bottle and placed it on the table, before she embraced her little girl, drawing her head against her chest and stroking it tenderly until she felt her body relax into sleep._

_With the slight form of her sleeping daughter in her arms, the tears finally came as she realized what she had almost given up. Right there in her arms was her reason to live, to fight the darkness, to refuse to let Harris win. Burying her nose in Emily's soft locks, she inhaled her scent, letting the cleansing tears fall until exhaustion finally dragged her into sweet oblivion. _

"The next morning, I called the psychologist and started to work on putting myself back together. It wasn't easy, but all I had to do when I felt like giving up was look at my children. They needed me and they deserved a mother who was well enough to give them the love, guidance, and stability they required. It took me a few more days to find the courage to get that pregnancy test, but it turned out that it really was just stress. It was a relief, considering that I had no idea what I would've done about that. I still don't know."

Andy tightened his hold on her, his cheek resting against her temple as he thought about the story she had just told him. He ached for her, for the pain and fear and uncertainty she'd had to endure and he wished he could have been there for her back then the way he was now. The unpleasant truth was that he had been a mess at that time. He wouldn't have been able to help her, to be strong for her. The urge to find Jack Raydor and plant his fist in the man's face was still strong, though. The guy had abandoned his own wife when she had needed him most.

"Jack is an idiot."

He ground the words out through clenched teeth, struggling to keep his anger to himself. Sharon chuckled, her fingers lacing through his where they lay against her stomach. She couldn't exactly disagree with his statement, but she felt like she shouldn't leave it uncommented, either.

"Jack has never been good at facing problems. For him, life was always about fun, about being the center of attention. He could never deal with it when things got tough. When it was hard for him to find a good job after graduation, he went out to celebrate instead, turning to alcohol and casual friends for the recognition and happiness he couldn't achieve professionally. When I called him on it and told him he'd better pull it together if he wanted to be a father to his children, he turned to gambling and then he left, because his nagging wife was too difficult to deal with. I never expected him to come back at that time and I should have known that it wouldn't last. I was broken and I needed him to be strong for me, to hold me up when I couldn't do it myself. It was too much for him. He couldn't deal with it, so he walked out. It's what he always does."

How she could be so accepting of another person's failings when they had done nothing but cause her pain, he would never understand, but it was a vital part of Sharon's personality. She was the most forgiving person he had ever met.

"You were never broken, Sharon. You were too strong to let that happen. You never really needed Jack and that, more than anything, is what he couldn't handle. You pulled yourself out of the darkness and put your life back together, when everyone thought you were done, that you wouldn't be able to recover. You proved them all wrong and I admired you for that. Your strength inspired me. It still does."

Sharon loved him for the way he saw her, even if she couldn't quite see herself in the same light. He was right. She hadn't needed Jack just as she didn't need Andy now, but she had wanted Jack to be there, just as she wanted Andy. The difference between the two men was that Andy chose to stay beside her when things got tough and she loved him for that, too. Loving Andy – it was something she had never really let herself think about, but admitting it to herself at that moment wasn't surprising. The feelings had been there long before she realized it, a subtle awareness of something special, maybe even magical, a little like those last days before nature started to wake from its long slumber. The impending trial was like an unexpected, late frost, scaring those budding feelings away, keeping them beneath the ground just as they were ready to poke their heads out and soak up the warmth of a new beginning.

"Maybe it didn't break me, but it did bend me quite a bit and I was just getting to a point where that didn't matter anymore. Deciding to get the divorce wasn't easy, but I was finally ready to let go of that safety net. That's what our marriage was those last years, an easy way for me to reject unwanted advances. As long as I was married, there was always a good reason to say no and I never had to fear that it wouldn't be accepted. Men tend to respect the ownership of another man easier than a simple _no_ from a woman. By staying married to him, Jack's legal claim on me provided the protection he could never give himself."

He hated to admit it, but Sharon was right about men. He would like to claim that he was different, but that would be foolish. His past was full of quick flirts and casual flings and he hadn't been above occasionally pursuing women he was interested in a little more persistently than they had probably appreciated. From his own experience he knew that it was easier to accept rejection when the reason was another guy rather than lack of interest. The male ego was a fragile thing, but that was a poor excuse. Andy wondered briefly how many women had felt the need to bring up husbands, real or fictional, to get rid of him.

"It's not as if I had no social life. I went out occasionally, dinner or a movie, a play sometimes, but I never let it go further than one or two dates. The thought of letting anyone get close to me, of them seeing… having to explain… I couldn't take it. At times I longed for someone to hold me, to let me rest for a while, but I wasn't able to let go of the fear. The closest I ever came was that night at the New Year's ball nine years ago."

A smile tugged at her lips and he felt himself respond in kind. Yes, he remembered that night. They had both been there under orders, required to represent their departments in the name of charity and to please the mayor. Neither had enjoyed the experience very much. These thing were usually rather boring, mostly a means to mingle with the brass and suck up to someone who could make a promotion happen. Andy hadn't been interested in any of that and, from the way she stood in a quiet corner with a glass of white wine in her hands, neither had Sharon. She had stared at the dance floor, swaying slightly, her eyes full of longing. No one had dared approach her, in part due to her reputation at work, but mostly, he guessed, because of the closed off expression on her face. She had been a walking, breathing contradiction, something that had fascinated him more than the way her electric blue, floor-length dress had hugged her figure, subtly but effectively showing off her enticing curves.

He had studied her for a while, trying to make sense of the mixed signals she had been sending, before he had decided to take a risk and approach her. They hadn't been strangers, even back then. His frequent conflicts with the rules and his propensity for pissing off suspects had made him a relatively regular visitor in her office. Despite her annoying habit of slapping him with her precious regulations and her fondness of anger management seminars, he had liked her and they had gotten along well enough. It had taken a while, but at some point, Lieutenant Raydor had rediscovered her snarky, sarcastic side and it had only gotten stronger after her promotion. They'd had some good times trading biting remarks.

Andy had never expected her to even talk to him beyond a polite request to leave her alone. Seeing her smile and having her welcome his presence in her quiet corner had been a complete surprise, albeit a pleasant one. Their conversation had been pleasant and easy, without any of the awkwardness that usually made these social encounters so uncomfortable. When he had caught her closing her eyes as one particular song had started playing, Andy had taken the glass out of her hand and had asked her to dance. They hadn't stopped for a long time, enjoying the closeness, the harmony of their movements as they glided across the floor. It had felt good to hold her and he hadn't stopped to think before pulling her closer as the music had slowed. She had gone willingly, melting against him, her head resting against his chest and her arms around his neck.

There had been something between them. It had started at work with their sarcastic banter and with the shared memories of a time they would both prefer to forget. In that ballroom with its soft light and seductive music, with thoughts of work and rules far enough away to forget for the moment, it had blossomed into more, a tantalizing tingling in their finger, trembling muscles as gentle fingers caressed them, a trail of fire burning in the wake of questing lips. It had all promised an incredible explosion of passion as she had moaned against his neck when her belly had brushed against his hardening length. They had both wanted it, had been prepared to find a more private place. His hand had slid down her back to cup her firm behind, pulling her against him, his breath hot in her ear as he had asked her if she would like him to take her home.

Her reaction had been surprising, her body suddenly rigid in his arms as she had tried to pull away. He had let her go, seeing fear and regret in her eyes as she had stepped out of his arms, her voice in complete work mode once more. She had apologized for giving him the wrong impression, had asked him to understand that it would be a bad idea considering the fact that they would have to face each other at work again. Then she had walked away, leaving him behind painfully aroused and incredibly worried.

Sharon squeezed his hand, humming quietly at the memory of that night, the way his lips had felt against her skin and his body moving against hers. With the pleasant recollections came the guilt of having led him on in that way when she quite obviously hadn't been ready to go through with it.

"I'm still feeling bad about the way I behaved. It was very unkind of me. I really am sorry about that."

There was more she wanted to say, how she had really wanted it to happen, how thoughts of that night still make her toes curl, and how she longed for it to happen again, just without the unfortunate ending. However, with the outcome of that last experience, Sharon was reluctant to go down that road again and risk hurting him once more. Behind her, Andy grunted slightly displeased, his arms tightening briefly around her.

"Sharon, there's nothing for you to worry about. I understood. I still do. I was there, remember?"

How could he be so understanding, so willing to put up with her when all she had to offer him were old, barely healed wounds and a terrible lot of drama.

"But this isn't the way it's supposed to be. You don't deserve this, Andy. You deserve better. You deserve someone without all this baggage. I thought I put it all behind me. Sometimes I remember - a smell or a certain tone of voice in a random person might bring it back briefly, but I learned to deal with that. Occasionally, it still comes to me in a dream, but I don't wake up screaming anymore. I thought I was finally ready to move on completely. Now I'm terrified that the darkness will return and ruin everything once again."

She was close to tears again, her voice shaking, on the verge of breaking. She was so sick of this, of feeling so unlike herself.

"It's going to be fine, Sharon. This time around you won't be alone. I'll be right here with you and I'm not going anywhere. We've got all the time in the world."

He planted a lingering kiss against her temple, tender and so full of love that she wanted to get lost in the feeling of safety and belonging. If only she could let herself fall.

"What if I'm never ready, Andy."

Another brush of his lips against the side of her face, his voice soft and earnest when he replied.

"So what? I'm not in this because of your body, although I like it very much. I love _you_, Sharon. This right here is what I want. We're not 20 anymore. I don't need sex to be happy. What I need is to go out to dinner or the movies or take long walks with the woman I love. I need to spend lazy evenings in front of the TV just holding her, to fall asleep next to her after a long, exhausting day and wake up and have her be the first thing I see. If all I ever get to do for the rest of my life is hold you like this and talk the sunsets away, I'll be the happiest man alive."

And with those words, Sharon was unable to stop the tears from falling once again. She had a hard time understanding how one man could be so unbelievably perfect. She was well aware of the fact that Andrew Flynn had his fair share of faults – maybe even more than the average person, but despite all his shortcomings, he was the perfect man for her. He drove her crazy occasionally with his sometimes blatant disregard of the rules she held so dear, with his quick temper and the way he sometimes spoke before thinking, but at the same time he was one of the kindest people she knew.

The words, when they finally tumbled over her lips, were a lot easier than she would have thought, easier even than they had been more than three decades ago when she'd first said them. The trust that had started many years ago in the darkest of nights, that they had worked on and built over the last few years, was strong, giving her the feeling of security she needed, a feeling she hadn't had in a very long time, if ever.

"I love you, too."

She turned her head slightly and caught his eyes with hers, letting him see the sincerity of her words. The happiness that made his chocolate brown orbs sparkle put a happy smile on her face. It was way past time she let him know, without a doubt, what he meant to her, even if she wasn't ready to take their relationship to the next level and might never be. He deserved to be sure of her feelings for him.

Her gaze slid down to his lips for a second before it fixed on his eyes again, her own lower lip caught between her teeth. After a moment's hesitation, Sharon tilted her chin up a little and brushed a gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth. The sensation of their intimate touch made her tingle all over and she moved her lips along his, lingering, savoring. He let her explore, returning her soft caresses, one of his hands moving into her hair, gently holding her to him.

As she hummed into the kiss, she thought that Andy had been right earlier. If they got to spend the rest of their lives like that, there wouldn't be a terrible lot to complain about.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 9**

Rusty was glad that he still had some time before his first class started. Traffic had been surprisingly smooth this morning and he had gotten to Santa Monica faster than planned. Having found a parking spot close to his building, he turned off the engine and sat back, eyes closed, letting the events of that morning pass through his mind once again.

When Lieutenant Flynn had approached him the day before to get Ricky's and Emily's phone numbers and to tell him that his presence was expected the next morning for a family conference call, a familiar feeling of dread had started to settle in his stomach. Flynn had tried his best to reassure him that it had nothing to do with Stroh or his place in Sharon's life, and yet he had not been able to shake the feeling that his world was about to crumble around him.

In the end Flynn had been right. It hadn't been about him at all. It had been far worse than anything he had been able to picture. The morning had started out pretty nice. He had walked into the kitchen to find Sharon preparing an unusually lavish breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon and the smell had made his mouth water when he had opened his door. For a moment he had been a little confused when he saw her in the kitchen while hearing the shower running. He still put the embarrassingly long time it had taken him to make the connection down to the early hour and the fact that he hadn't had any coffee yet. Seeing Sharon blush and become all flustered when he had asked her if she and Flynn were still not dating had been worth taking the heat of her glare. The words that had followed had wiped the grin off his face again, though, making his anxiety about their scheduled talk reappear with a vengeance. She had told him that, although that might change at some point in the future, she and Flynn were not dating, that he was just being a very good friend, who was helping her through a difficult time.

He'd had to wait for an explanation until after breakfast, but once Flynn had joined them, they had managed to have a good time, joking about Provenza and his reluctant romance with Patrice and talking about his college courses. Rusty had never been part of a normal family, but that half an hour had come as close as he had ever been. He hoped that, once that trial was over, Sharon and Flynn would get a chance to be together and maybe there would be more mornings like that in their future.

The trial – that had been a shock. Somehow it seemed as if their lives were destined to be ruined by trials and it really wasn't fair. Sharon's reluctance to talk about that mysterious case had surprised him as well as the other two – his siblings, a term he was still getting used to. Unless it was a very tough case, she had never appeared to have any problems telling him about her work. She would try to leave the gory details out, but her work was the one thing Sharon was almost always willing to share with him. This time, he could tell that she hadn't wanted to. The basic details had been shared easily enough, but they had not shed any light on the reason for the early morning conference. An old case being put on trial after many years was hardly something that warranted ordering a meeting like that.

Rusty still didn't want to believe what they had learned after a lot of digging and prodding. He wished they had accepted her initial explanation and left it at that. Maybe the day would come when he finally learned that there were things he really didn't want to know. Ricky and Emily had seemed to think along similar lines once they had heard the entire story – or as much of it as Sharon could be persuaded to share with them. He was reasonably sure that she had held back the worst of it, but he had a pretty good idea, anyway.

When she had told them about having been involved in an undercover operation that had gone wrong, the way she had tried to pull her work persona around herself like a cloak had made him feel sick with dread. She had never done that before when talking about a case. She mostly kept to the facts, but he had never seen her hide away her emotions before. During the nightmare with his pen pal, she had tried very hard not to let him see how scared she was for him, but that was different. She hadn't wanted to freak him out any more than he already was. The strategy she had used that morning was one he was more than a little familiar with. How often had he pretended that he didn't care about something, that it didn't hurt like crazy to even think about it? Whenever he had failed at that, which had been a lot of times, his emotions had come out as anger. He had yelled at everyone, hurling hurtful words at them, no matter if they deserved it or not. Sharon's failure to contain her pain had been a lot more subtle and would probably have been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't as close to her as they were. Her act of calm control and dispassionate distance had almost been convincing, but there had been small cracks.

Sharon didn't cry – at least not the way his mother did, wailing dramatically, and clinging to anyone who happened to be close by. She also didn't scream when she was angry or beg for help when she was frightened. When she cried, she did so quietly, preferably where no one could witness it. She didn't have to raise her voice to convey her displeasure. She did so quietly, with a scorching look, a raised eyebrow or a pointed silence. There weren't many things that could scare a seasoned police officer like her, but those things that did get to her, she kept to herself, dealt with them the same way she dealt with everything else – head on.

In the three years he had lived with Sharon, Rusty had never seen her as close to breaking as he had that morning. Those small cracks in her armor had allowed him to see a darkness so vast he had wanted to run from it. He hadn't wanted to know the details, just as Sharon hadn't wanted to know the details about his time on the streets. Before she had shared anything more than the basics about the case, he had known, had recognized a familiar pain in the way she had tired to close herself off physically and emotionally, in the way her eyes had been unable to meet his or those of his siblings, and in the death grip she had on Flynn's hand. She hadn't cried and she hadn't screamed, but he had been able to see that she wanted to. However, what had been more telling than anything had been the fact that she had asked for help, that she had allowed Flynn to be by her side.

Maybe it had been his unique perspective or the fact that he had been in the same room and thus better able to observe her behavior, but in the end it had been his cautious questions that had revealed the story to them bit by bit. That last piece of the puzzle, however, had been like the proverbial white elephant in the room. They had all known it was there, but no one had wanted to call it by its name. Sharon had sat in her chair, elbows resting on the table and her face buried in her hands. Revealing to them that, during those three days she had been assaulted repeatedly, had been more than she had been prepared for. Rusty had wanted to hug her or hold her hand, anything that would make it better, but he couldn't. Some things just had to be faced head on. That was something Sharon had taught him. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to answer, he had addressed his last question to Lieutenant Flynn. He had thought that knowing for sure would be better than speculating about the exact implications of the word _assaulted_. It wasn't a terribly precise term. It had taken him a while to come up with a way to ask for clarification without using that word. Enquiring after the exact charges against this guy had seemed like the best way to go. Flynn had seemed reluctant at first, seeking Sharon's eyes to get her consent before answering, his voice unusually deep and quiet and his expression full of pain, concern, and barely suppressed anger.

Rusty had been wrong. Knowing definitely wasn't better. The words were still replaying in his head, over and over again and he wished he had never heard them.

_Harris was arrested for seven counts of kidnapping, assault and rape and six counts of murder one._

It was out there now, this word and the certainty, the knowledge that someone had put her through hell; that they had almost lost their mother to a lunatic. Yes, she was his mother. Not just on paper, but in every sense that mattered. It had been a long path for him to arrive at this conclusion, but in that moment when that terrible word had tumbled from Flynn's mouth into their midst, there had been nothing separating him from her other two children. They would forever be bound together, their connection deeply rooted in their need to protect and love one woman. When Sharon had tried to hide the shiver that had gone down her spine and conceal her trembling lips behind equally trembling hands, his helpless gaze had met those of his older siblings and he had known that they would get through this. They would stand beside Sharon and help her in every way they could. They would fight this battle together, because they were a family – they were Sharon's family.

It had taken a few minutes for Sharon to collect herself. She had pushed her emotions back behind her protective walls and assured them that she would be just fine. Ricky and Emily had informed her that they would be on the next plane to LA, but she hadn't even allowed them to finish that thought. According to her, it was bad enough that Rusty had to be in the middle of that chaos. The last thing she wanted was her other children being subjected to it, especially since there wasn't anything they could do. After that, he hadn't even tried to suggest skipping classes to stay with her, fully aware that she would have shot him down just as hard. They had talked some more, first about the case and then about other things, before first Ricky and then Rusty had had to leave. Ricky had made her promise to call him and to let him know if there was anything he could do. When he had gotten up to leave, too, Sharon had left Andy to entertain Emily for a moment as she had escorted Rusty to the door. She had asked him if he was okay, which had earned her an eye-roll, a hug, and the whispered assurance that he would be just fine as long as she would be.

A lot of things about Sharon were beginning to make sense, now that he'd had some time to digest the new information. Unlike his other foster parents, she had known how to handle him. She had found the right balance between giving him space and letting him know that she was there, had sensed when it had been okay to touch him and when he hadn't been able to tolerate physical contact. They were similar in many respects, from their need for privacy and personal space to their abhorrence of overly emotional displays, and he had come to realize pretty soon after getting to know her that Sharon understood him far better than his biological mother ever had. He hadn't been ready to see it at the beginning but the awareness had grown inside him and gotten stronger with every time his mother had disappointed or hurt him. Sharon Beck would always be his mother and no matter how little she did to deserve it, he would always love her. Sharon Raydor, however, was the woman he trusted with his heart and soul, the one he came to when he needed advice or a sympathetic ear. She was his mother in every way but the least significant and he loved her just as much. Maybe it was time he told her. Not that he loved her, because she knew that. He had gotten better at saying the words. He should tell her that, even though he might not feel comfortable with _calling_ her Mom, he did feel it. Resolving to take the earliest opportunity to talk to her about this, Rusty grabbed his backpack, climbed out of the car, and made his way towards the lecture hall for his first class of the day, believing that he might have found a way to make Sharon feel a little better.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 10**

Sharon hadn't expected Andrea Hobbs to call her. When Andy had told her that someone from the DA's office would contact her in the morning, she had assumed it would be Emma Rios, hopefully with a slightly improved attitude. To say she was relieved that she wouldn't have to deal with the young DDA would be an understatement. While she respected her in a professional capacity and hoped she would have a successful and fulfilling career, Sharon was glad for every case they did not have to work together. They had gotten better at tolerating each other, but those first few weeks fighting over Rusty's placement and the proper way to prepare him for the trial had damaged their relationship beyond repair. She had no idea what Andy had done the previous day, but it must have resonated with someone higher up for them to assign a different DDA to the case. During their brief conversation, Andrea had reassured her that she would not have to face Gloria again. She had offered to drop by Sharon's condo to make sure their interview would be conducted undisturbed and in an environment she felt comfortable in. They had agreed to meet shortly after lunch, leaving Sharon enough time to recover from the talk with her children.

Baring her innermost secrets to them had been even harder than she had anticipated, leaving her shaking and exhausted. When Emily had hung back after her brothers left, Sharon had known that there would be more to talk about and she had been correct.

_When Sharon returned to her seat in front of the laptop, Emily looked at her as if she tried to figure something out. She smiled at her daughter encouragingly, her gaze quickly flicking over to Andy as he handed her a fresh cup of coffee, his fingers lightly brushing over her hand before he retreated to his own chair._

"_What is it, honey?" _

"_That's why Dad came back, isn't it? That first time a few years after you guys separated?"_

_Sharon swallowed hard, dreading the direction that conversation could be taking. _

"_You remember that?"_

_They had never talked about that time and for some reason, she had assumed that her children had been too young, that they had forgotten those terrible few weeks. Apparently, she had been mistaken._

_Emily shrugged, her tone low and tentative as if she were unsure of how much to reveal. Sharon wished that they weren't separated by such a long distance. She wanted to hold her little girl close and tell her that everything would be all right. She longed for the opportunity to take the heavy burden of her memories off her shoulders, but all she could do was let her know that, no matter what, she could talk to her about whatever was troubling her._

"_Not very much. Just that Dad was suddenly back when we returned from spending a few days with Aunt Cathy. Dad seemed weird around you and you were so sad all the time. I didn't really understand why, but I thought it was because Dad was different. And then he was gone again. I remember that night. You sat on the sofa and looked so lost and lonely and it scared me. I wanted to make you feel better so much. It sounds stupid, I know."_

_She shrugged again, so many questions in her beautiful eyes, and Sharon wished more than ever that she could hug her._

"_It's not stupid, honey. You did help. You have no idea how much. Having you there, holding you – it reminded me how rich my life was, despite everything that had happened. You gave me a reason to fight when I needed it most."_

_They both had tears in their eyes and Sharon curled both hands around her coffee cup to keep them from shaking, its warmth seeping into her skin, soothing her nerves. Emily's lips pursed in a familiar expression of displeasure and her eyes hardened._

"_I hated Dad for hurting you like that and now that I know what you went through, I have no idea how I'm supposed to look at him ever again. How could he just leave you? He should have supported you. Instead he ran off to Vegas. What sort of person does that?"_

_It broke Sharon's heart to see her resent her father so much and she felt guilty for not realizing it earlier. _

"_Oh Emily, no! Honey, please don't blame your father for that. None of that was his fault. He tried his best to help, but he didn't know how and neither did I. He never had to be the strong one in our relationship and at that point, it was too late for him to figure that out. I never held that against him and neither should you. Jack made his share of mistakes, but that was not one of them. He came back and he tried to be what I needed during that time, and I'll always be grateful to him for that, no matter how it turned out."_

_There was no need for her to share with her daughter that last confrontation in the bedroom and how his rejection had shattered her heart into a million pieces, how it had taken her almost two decades to come up with the courage to risk opening it to another person again. Jack had broken her heart more than once, but that last time had been too much for her to forgive. She had felt like Emily for a long time, resenting him for what he had done, but after a few years, once she'd had enough time to come to terms with her experience, she had realized that he had truly done all he could. The fact that he had even come back, let alone stuck around for such a long time, was more than she had thought him capable of. She couldn't really blame him for being too weak._

_Emily appeared to be skeptical about her mother's defense of her father, but she reluctantly promised to think about it and to try and cut him some slack, mostly because it seemed to be important to her mother. If that endeavor would be successful in the end would remain to be seen. _

_When it was time for her to get ready for work, Emily asked once again if she really shouldn't come, if only for a few days. It took a lengthy talk on how she was old enough to deal with her own problems, a promise to call her if she needed anything, and Andy's assurance that he would keep an eye on her mother for her to give in and end the call with a teary-eyed _I love you_._

Once the talk with her children was behind her and the appointment with Andrea scheduled, Sharon and Andy had decided to make the short trip to Griffith Park and take a relaxing walk in the sun. On the way back they stopped to pick up some Chinese for an early lunch at her place.

After cleaning away their dishes, they spent the last half hour before Andrea would arrive on the sofa, another old film running in the background, ignored for the most part once again. They were comfortable, his arm around her shoulders and her head resting against his chest, as they both let their minds wander. Sharon thought it should scare her that he seemed to fit so effortlessly into her home, but it didn't. Not really. There had been a slightly awkward moment when she had asked him to stay the night, but after that it had felt as if they had shared this level of closeness for years.

Sharon thought back to the night before, the way they had sat in silence, watching the sun touch the distant ocean, bathing it in deep shades of crimson and orange, the sky slowly changing over purple to dark blue and black. Only then had they finally risen to make their way back to the car.

_She had been thinking about something as they had wandered down the dark trail, hands entwined, and had continued to do so until Andy pulled into the guest spot in her parking garage. Asking for something that was entirely selfish had never been easy for her and this was no exception. Andy walked her up to her door, as he usually did and when they reached it, Sharon turned towards him, both hands resting against his chest and her eyes on the ground. Taking a deep breath, she finally asked him, her voice quiet and uncertain._

"_Would you… No, forget it."_

_With every moment she thought about it, the idea sounded more and more pathetic and selfish, but Andy did not seem inclined to let her off the hook that easily._

"_What is it, Sharon?"_

_She briefly looked up to meet his eyes, only to stare at her feet once again._

"_No, it wouldn't be fair to you."_

_Andy put his hands on her upper arms, squeezing gently, encouraging her to go on._

"_Why don't you ask and let me decide if it's fair or not?"_

_When she still hesitated, he cupped her cheek with one hand, tilting her head up slightly so she was forced to look at him._

"_I promise to let you know if it's something I don't want to do, okay?"_

_His expression was serious, making sure she would know he meant it. She believed him, but it was still hard for her to put her need into words, to admit her own weakness to another person._

"_Would you stay tonight? I…" She took another deep breath, sliding her lower lip back and forth between her teeth as her eyes landed on his purple tie. "I don't want to be alone right now. I…"_

_She looked up at him once more, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Needing someone this much was new to her and it made her slightly uncomfortable, but with everything that was going on she was not up to fighting against something that felt so right._

"_I don't want to be without you."_

_Andy pulled her into a tight embrace, his hands drawing gentle circles across her back as he quietly spoke into her ear._

"_Of course I will. You never have to feel bad about needing me, Sharon. I'll always be there for you."_

From that moment on, things had been surprisingly easy and comfortable, as they had gotten ready for bed. She had given him one of Ricky's t-shirts and the track pants he had forgotten in her laundry when he had left after his Christmas visit. Rusty had already been in bed, sparing them that awkward conversation, at least until the morning. She had fallen asleep in his arms, his solid presence a warm light, keeping the darkness from creeping into her soul.

That morning, Sharon had woken up to the wonderful feeling of being held in a secure embrace. She wasn't used to it after more than twenty years of sleeping alone, but it had been unexpectedly enjoyable, despite her worries that the closeness might be too much, considering her history and recent events. It hadn't been, and in the early morning hours, with the pale sunlight shining through the curtains, she had allowed herself a few more minutes to enjoy the peace and quiet in his arms.

When he had finally stirred behind her, his face buried in her hair, lips brushing against her neck, she had hummed quietly, her voice husky with sleep. Neither one of them had seemed inclined to move any time soon and, judging by the light, it had been too early to get up, anyway. They had lingered in this quiet, worry-free place for a while longer, content to enjoy each other's company without the need to talk until it had been time to get up and face the new day.

It occurred to her that she might be getting a little too used to having him around, to having him help her carry the weight of this latest crisis. She realized that it was what normal couples did, but they weren't a couple yet and she had never been the one who was being taken care of – not since she had moved out of her parents' house almost forty years ago. She had never been allowed to step back and let someone else deal with the problems at hand. It was a nice feeling, but she was afraid that she would end up relying on him too much. Her self-reliance was important to her and she didn't want to risk giving it up.

"Andrea will be here soon."

Andy nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"Will you be okay talking to her? I'm sure she would understand if you needed to reschedule."

Smiling at his protectiveness, she shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine. It's not going to get any easier if I put it off. And I trust Andrea not to make it unnecessarily hard on me."

He didn't seem entirely convinced, which was sweet, but it also proved her point. She needed to take the situation back into her own hands, for both of their sakes. It was important for her to prove to both of them that she didn't need protection, that she was able to stand on her own feet.

"So, would you like me to stay or should I leave the two of you alone? I could wait at the café around the corner until you're done."

Putting a little distance between them as she slid around to face him, Sharon took one of his hands between hers, studying the contrast in size and skin tone while she found the right words. She didn't want to hurt him or make him feel as if she didn't want him around.

"Andy, I think you should go to work. Someone has got to make sure Amy and Lieutenant Provenza haven't killed each other yet."

Her attempt at humor seemed to fall flat if his frown was any indication. She could see him getting ready to protest. Squeezing his hand between hers, she shook her head, stopping him before he could give voice to his concerns.

"I know you're worried and that you want to help me and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know, but this is something I have to do on my own. These last few days, I've allowed myself to lean onto you more than I've ever done with anyone and I needed it. Having you here helped me through the worst of it and the knowledge that you have my back will get me through the rest. However, I can't let this trial take away who I am. I've always been able to rely on my own strength and I need to know that I still can. Do you understand that?"

Studying his expressive, brown eyes, Sharon saw a battle of conflicting emotions struggling for supremacy and for a while she was worried about his reaction as he tried to hide hurt, confusion and anger behind an understanding smile.

"If you're sure… I mean if that's what you want, I'll go in. I should probably get home and change."

He tried to withdraw his hand from her grip, his voice strained with the effort to keep his emotions from showing. Instead of letting go of him, she held on tighter, pulling him a little closer as one of her hands reached out to caress his cheek briefly before settling against his chest.

"Andy, I'm not pushing you away. I want you beside me, not just for this, but long term. That's why I need you to give me a little space right now. This is a battle I need to fight myself in order to come out of it whole and ready to move on – with you. Being able to do this on my own, without you holding my hand every step of the way, is very important to me. I have to know that I can do this without you and I need to know that you can do the same if necessary."

She knew that he understood what she was saying, but there seemed to be a part of him that refused to accept her words and their meaning. He worried about her, but what he didn't seem to understand was that she also worried about him. Their profession was a dangerous one. Every day they went to work could be the last and the awareness that one of them might not come home one day was something they had to deal with. Becoming too dependent on each other for their emotional well-being was dangerous, especially for someone with Andy's history.

For the moment, his nod and reassuring squeeze of her hand would have to be enough to allay her concerns, as the doorbell announced the arrival of DDA Hobbs. They both rose and Andy let her hand slip out of his grip and collected his things, getting ready to leave as Sharon opened the door.

If Andrea was surprised to find Andy in Sharon's condo, casually clipping his badge to his belt and picking up his wallet and keys, she didn't show it, exchanging warm greetings with both officers.

"Lieutenant Flynn, I've been meaning to call you. We need to make an appointment for an interview. I talked to Gloria Lim and we came up with this afternoon. Would that work for you?"

Flynn rolled his eyes at the mention of their friend from the City Attorney's office, but nodded at Hobbs' suggestion.

"Yeah, I guess that works. Let's get this out of the way as quickly as possible."

Andrea gave him a tight smile, aware of how much he disliked Gloria. She didn't like the idea of having her there any more than he did. Flynn had a volatile temper on any given day. Provoking him the way she knew Gloria would do with her often inappropriate questions and comments would not help secure his cooperation and she didn't look forward to keeping those two from killing each other. She hoped that giving him the home field advantage would make things a little easier for all of them.

"Great. We'll drop by at five. We can use one of your conference rooms. That way we won't keep you away from work for too long."

With a resigned sigh, Andy agreed as he turned towards the door. Sharon made sure her guest got comfortable on the couch before she followed him. Putting a hand on his arm, she urged him to turn towards her, giving her a chance to study his face. She still felt bad about asking him to leave and was afraid that she had hurt him.

"Are we okay?"

Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, giving her a gentle smile.

"Of course we are. Just…"

Sharon rose to her toes, her hands braced against his chest, and interrupted his words with a soft kiss, nothing more than a brief, delicate touch of her lips against his. Resting her forehead against his chin, she gave both of them a short moment to draw comfort and strength from the other.

"I know. I'll be fine, Andy. And I promise to call you if I need you, as long as you promise me to do the same. We're in this together, okay?"

She felt him relax under her hands, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly, the warm puff of air stirring her hair. Slipping his arms around her, Andy drew her against his chest, holding her close for a few seconds before he let her go again.

"Yeah, I promise. I'll call you later to let you know if Provenza has redecorated the Murder Room already."

As he stepped around her and opened the door, she reached out once more, touching his hand to get his attention.

"If you want to, you could come over for dinner tonight. It's pizza night and I'm sure I could convince Rusty to keep one half bacon free."

A grin made his face light up at the thought of Rusty's legendary love for bacon. There was something he had to do though, even if the thought of declining her offer saddened him. Her words from earlier still rang in his head and he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that she had a point. They both had their own battles to fight and it wouldn't do to lose sight of those and get lost in each other.

"That sounds tempting, but I think I should go to a meeting tonight."

When he saw disappointment cross her face before she masked it behind a smile, he shrugged, one corner of his lips turning up slightly.

"Maybe you could save me a slice for later? I could text you when I'm done and see if you're still up?"

It might be a little presumptuous of him, but he really wanted to see for himself that she was all right. Sharon was a master at masking her true state of mind, but it was a lot harder for her to conceal her distress when he could see her eyes. Her broad grin and sparkling eyes put him at ease, though.

"I'd like that. See you tonight."

Patting his arm on last time, she gently closed the door behind him and turned back towards Andrea, briefly wondering how much she might have overheard. If she were completely honest, Sharon didn't really care. This was her home and she would not start second-guessing how she treated her guests.

Once Sharon had made tea for them and settled down on the sofa, facing Andrea, they slowly started making their way through the DDA's questions. Talking about what had happened to her didn't become easier, but Hobbs gave her time, gently leading her from the basic facts to a more detailed description of events, allowing her to take breaks whenever she needed to collect herself, wordlessly accepting the third cup of tea, because the pretext of preparing it had been easier for Sharon than admitting that she couldn't keep the tears from falling.

It was hard for Andrea to reconcile the story that was unfolding bit by agonizing bit in front of her with the strong, uncompromising woman who was telling it. It pained her that she had to make her go through this. She saw Sharon struggle to maintain control over her emotions, fighting a losing battle against her tears, but never giving up the pretense of being fine. She despised Harris more and more with every word the other woman said, with every detail she revealed, every injury he inflicted on her, every time he laid his hand on her, every cruel word he threw at her. All that remained after the last layer of cruelty was laid before her and Sharon finally gave up and let the tears fall, was the unshakable conviction that she would make sure Harris paid for his crimes with his life.

At some point they would have to talk about Sharon's relationship with her Lieutenant and how that might influence their case, but that could wait a few days. Gloria would get to ask Flynn about that later and they would see if she still had questions after that. As much as she hated to admit it, the fact that her most important witnesses seemed to be in a very close relationship did complicate matters a little, but Andrea refused to make it an issue, especially with Sharon. She considered the older woman a friend, and wouldn't allow someone else's mistakes to destroy what looked like it could be something special. Hobbs would never say so, because she knew it wouldn't be appreciated, but she liked the idea that those two found each other and hoped they could make it work. Having the City Attorney, Harris' lawyer, Taylor and God knew who else dissect their relationship under a microscope probably wouldn't help. She would do what she could to keep these things away from Sharon.

When it was time for Hobbs to go, Sharon escorted her to the door, pulling her into a tight hug in the hallway. After having spent a couple of hours sharing the details of the darkest time of her life with the other woman, she felt that what had previously been a purely professional friendship might have developed into something deeper. Maybe they would get a chance to explore that friendship once the Harris nightmare was over. It had been a while since Sharon had last had a close female friend and she missed that.

"Thank you, Andrea. I really appreciate all you've done. I'm not sure if I could have talked about all that with anyone else. You really made this a lot easier than it could have been."

Hobbs returned the embrace despite her initial surprise, relieved that she had been able to help. Promising to keep in touch and get back to her with any further questions, she left, mentally preparing for her next appointment, one that wouldn't be much easier. There were day when she really didn't like her job.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 11**

As much as Andy worried about Sharon, being at work felt good. The opportunity to dive head-first into a case, distracting his thoughts with bank statements and phone records, putting clues together and pretending his colleagues' jokes were funny helped clear his mind and made him breathe easier for a little while. Once again, Sharon had been right; he had needed this time apart as much as she had. When the time for his chat with Hobbs and Lim came, he felt a lot more centered than he had that morning.

Before they entered the conference room behind the Deputy City Attorney, Andy stopped Hobbs with a hand on her arm, worry evident in his expression.

"How is she?"

He was glad that the DDA didn't pretend not to understand. She gave him a tight smile, letting him see that she shared his concern.

"It was tough, but she got through it. She's holding up okay. Let's get this over with and you can go check on her."

Nodding, grateful for her honesty, he let her precede him into the room, taking a seat across from the two women and bracing himself for what he knew was to come. To his surprise Lim stayed quiet all through the first part of the interview, letting Andrea ask her questions and allowing him to describe the events surrounding Sharon's rescue and Harris' arrest. Once he had started, the words came easier than he had expected as the DDA guided him through his memories, occasionally asking for clarification or gently prodding for more details when he was reluctant to delve too deeply into the past, but generally letting him talk at his own pace.

He sighed in relief when he was done, briefly closing his eyes, letting his shoulders relax. Across from him, Gloria was starting to get restless, shifting through the stack of papers in front of her and he knew that the worst was yet to come. He hadn't forgotten what Sharon had told him about her meeting the day before. Taking one last, calming breath, he faced the young woman, bracing himself for whatever she might throw at him.

"How long have you known Captain Raydor, Lieutenant?"

The question surprised him, because it didn't seem to have a point. Besides, how was he supposed to remember when exactly he had first met her?

"If you're after a precise date, I can't help you. She started out a few years after me, but we were in Patrol together for a year or so. We ran into each other occasionally, but we didn't have much to do with each other. That was over thirty years ago. If you want to know when she first handled one of my FID cases, you should probably look into my personnel file, 'cause I don't remember. There were quite a few."

Scribbling down a few notes, she looked at him again, eyes cold and piercing. It never ceased to amaze him how much the sound of her voice annoyed him.

"So, you two go way back?"

Frowning, Andy started questioning more than just the purpose of this interview. He had to remind himself that losing his temper would not be helpful, as tempting as the thought of yelling at her might be.

"If you've been around as long as we have, you go way back with many people. Is there something specific you want to ask me?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, before she focused on her notes again. He wondered if he should tell her that the note-taking trick was as old as time and didn't work on him, but decided to let her feel in control for now.

"Do you like working for Captain Raydor? I understand that her transfer to Major Crimes didn't sit well with your division."

This time Andy couldn't contain his reaction, snorting and rolling his eyes at her.

"We're all creatures of habit around here, ma'am. We don't get used to any kind of change easily. The Captain is a good boss and she knows how to run a team. Didn't take her long to pull us onto her side."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hobbs raise and eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. Apparently, she was trying to decide whether to laugh or pull her hair, just as he was.

"How would you describe your relationship with Captain Raydor?"

Here we go, he thought. This was what she was trying to get at.

"The Captain and I are friends."

Her sneer gave him a pretty good idea what she thought of that statement, even though it was the truth – technically. They hadn't made any definitive decision about the nature of their relationship, after all.

"When did you stop drinking, Lieutenant?"

Narrowing his eyes at her, he pressed his hands flat against his thighs to ground himself. Her erratic line of questioning was beginning to seriously annoy him, because it didn't serve any purpose. It was a strategy to confuse suspects in order to break them, but he wasn't a suspect – at least he didn't think so. Someone should probably tell her that those tricks only work on people who don't know them but he didn't feel inclined to educate her and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of losing his temper.

"I've been sober for close to eighteen years."

Andy was pretty good at reading people and he definitely detected a strong dislike from Ms. Lim towards him. He had no idea what he had ever done to piss her off, but it must have been something good if the way she looked at him was anything to go by.

"That's an awfully long time without a drink. It's hard to believe you never succumbed to temptation. Can you prove that you're not drinking?"

Taking a deep, calming breath, Andy thought about the sound of Sharon's voice when she talked about one of her children, letting the memory of its soft tone soothe his rising temper. When he responded, his voice was completely devoid of emotion.

"Can you?"

He could see that his reply had thrown her slightly and she didn't like it. Andrea, on the other hand, had to press her lips together to keep the grin off her face. Her eyes sparkled with humor as she sat back in her chair, obviously settling in for an entertaining show.

"How many of the complaints against you did Captain Raydor investigate during her time with FID?"

Eyeing the sizable folder in front of her, he smirked, making sure she got how ridiculous he thought this interview was.

"I guess you know better than me, since you've got my jacket right there. As you can see, there are quite a few complaints in there. You'll have to forgive me if I don't remember the specific details. But I have been cleared of every single one of them."

Hiding his sarcasm was getting harder with every insane question she asked and he wondered how much longer he would be able to keep to his good intentions of being calm and controlled.

"Yes, I noticed. I have indeed checked your file and I saw that an unusually large number of your complaints were handled by Captain Raydor. That makes me wonder what you gave the Captain in exchange for clearing you. From where I sit, it looks a lot like the two of you had some sort of arrangement. What was it, Lieutenant? Did you trade sexual favors for a positive FID report? I mean, her husband left her a very long time ago and a woman has needs. It would've been a great deal for both of you."

He felt heat rise into his cheeks and heard the blood pulsing in his ears as his blood pressure shot through the roof. To hell with calm and controlled. This was too much. If only he could get his mouth to form words, he would love to tell her where to stick her interview. Instead, she took his silence as a chance to get in another question.

"How long have you been sleeping with Captain Raydor, Lieutenant?"

Hobbs looked ready to strangle the other woman, her eyes wide with shock and outrage, but Andy was faster. Pushing his chair back, he rose to his feet, bracing his hands on the table, leaning over it, his voice loud and almost shaking with anger.

"Okay, enough of this crap! I won't sit here and listen to you insult a fellow officer. You have obviously no idea what the hell you're talking about, lady. Sharon Raydor worked damn hard to get where she is and she has spent her entire career fighting to make sure that young women get the same chances in this job as their male colleagues without having to be subjected to stupid accusations like that. How do you like people asking you who you slept with to get your job?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but her expression communicated her outrage.

"You are trying to ruin the reputation of an officer who, for over thirty years, has given everything to the LAPD, honoring the rules and policies and making sure everyone else did the same. I don't know what's going through your head, but you have no damn right to judge her. Sharon Raydor has more integrity in her little finger than you will be able to come up with in your entire life. So, unless you can come up with any respectful and relevant questions, I'm outta here."

Turning on his heel, he was halfway to the door when Lim spoke again, convincing him that she really was stupid.

"For someone who claims to be only friends with her, you're awfully protective of your Captain. Seems like you're a bit touchy when it comes to her and sex. Why's that, I wonder."

Andy whirled around, ready to advance on her, but Hobbs stopped him with a calming hand on his arm, shaking her head slightly the same way Sharon did when he was about to fly off the handle. It didn't do much to calm him, but she managed to keep him from wrapping his hands around Lim's neck.

"What's wrong with you? You've sat here for the last half hour and listened to the details of what she's been through. You've seen the pictures of her injuries and gone over the other evidence. How can you even think any of those things you're suggesting? How can you believe any of the crap that's coming outta your mouth? You're a woman, for god's sake. Don't you have any compassion? Or at least some common sense and decency?"

Shaking his head in frustration, he ran his hands through his hair as he drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, his voice losing some of its volume when he continued.

"You know what, you're right. I do care a great deal about her. Maybe more than I should, but I am her friend, because that's what she needs me to be. With everything she's been through, she doesn't need some idiot alcoholic trying to get into her pants and that's fine with me. Maybe that's something you can't comprehend, but I love her so much that it doesn't matter that she might never be able to let me be more than her friend. I will still be by her side and I'll always be protective of her and take offense when someone tries to question her conduct in such an outrageous way, because that's what friendship and loyalty is all about. But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that. I'm done here now. If you've got any more questions, you can talk to my union rep."

Giving Hobbs a short nod, Andy stalked out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him.

When Gloria started to complain to her about the way she had just been spoken to, Andrea just held up her hand and shook her head. She simply had no words for the younger woman. The things she had said, the accusations she had thrown at the Lieutenant and the manner in which she had addressed him had been so far beyond inappropriate that she wondered how Flynn had managed to control his temper so well. If she had to listen to one more word out of that woman's mouth, Hobbs knew she would say something she would regret so she just glared at her and warned her off, her voice full of all the contempt and rage she had inside her.

"Don't. Just… Don't."

With that, she turned around to leave the room. As she stood in the open door, she faced Gloria once more with one last piece of advice.

"If I were you, I wouldn't show my face around here for a while."

Maybe she closed the door with a little more force than strictly necessary, but her anger needed some sort of outlet. As for Gloria, despite her recommendation to stay away from Major Crimes, she wouldn't mind seeing Sharon's team give her a lesson in humility.

The Murder Room was empty when she passed through on her way to the elevator, indicating that the team was either working on a case or had decided to call it a day. She was glad that there weren't any questions she had to avoid answering, because at that moment she wasn't in the mood to watch her words and it wouldn't do for Sharon's team to bear witness to the more colorful side of her vocabulary.

When she rounded a corner, she saw Lieutenant Flynn standing in the hallway close to the break room, one hand braced against the wall, bending over slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath. Rushing to his side, Andrea placed a gentle hand against his back, leaning down to get a good look at his face. His eyes were closed and he was breathing hard.

"Lieutenant, are you okay?"

When he didn't react, she grew really concerned. Hooking her arm under his free one, she made sure he wouldn't collapse in front of her as she tried to get him to look at her, tilting his head up with her hand. Slowly, he opened his eyes, his gaze slightly unfocused.

"Okay, come on, let's find you a chair."

Guiding him the few steps into the break room and to the nearest chair, Andrea pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.

"All right, drink this. It'll help you feel better."

She steadied the glass until she was sure that he could manage on his own, keeping a careful eye on him as he took small sips of the cold beverage. Once he was done, she took the glass from him and put it onto the table. Pulling a chair closer to his, she sat down and laid her hand on his arm, drawing his attention away from his fidgeting fingers.

"How are you feeling now? Have you got any chest pain?"

Still a little breathless, Andy shook his head, trying to reassure Hobbs. He knew that it was just his blood pressure acting up, which really wasn't surprising with everything that was going on. Besides, he might have forgotten to take his pills that morning – and possibly the night before, which annoyed him even more, because it was further proof of what Sharon had tried to make him understand earlier. He just couldn't see how he was supposed to focus on anything other than making sure she would be all right with the trial and everything that brought back and the added worry of people like Gloria Lim seeming to be out for her blood.

"I'm just great, Hobbs. I just spent half an hour going over events I tried very hard to forget for many years only to be subjected to a completely pointless interrogation by someone who clearly has no clue what she's doing, having to listen to her dragging my best friend's integrity and reputation through the dirt. Dammit, Sharon doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve any of this. How much more is she supposed to take? Apart from those few months before Stroh escaped, Sharon hasn't had a break in years – probably since that lawsuit crap over the Baylor case started. It's just one thing after another for her. She may be the strongest person I know. I mean, I saw what happened to her. I was there. I saw what that creep did to her. And then I saw her come back from it when no one thought she could. She put her life back together, managed to have a great career despite people trying to hold her back. And she did all that while raising two kids on her own with a useless drunk as a husband. The thing is, no matter how strong she is, there's a limit to how much she can deal with and I'm afraid she's reaching it and I don't know what to do. I see her fight desperately to keep it together, to keep everyone from noticing what this is doing to her and there's nothing I can do to help her. Hell, at least she lets me hold her, but I'm not doing anything. I'm not really helping. I can't make anything better for her. I just feel so damn useless."

As he yelled those last words, Andy slammed his flat hand down on the table, making the empty glass jump and wobble precariously before it settled down again. He was breathing hard, hands curled into tight fists on the tabletop, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. His sudden outburst had startled Andrea only slightly, as she had expected something like that. She had known him for many years, after all and was more than familiar with his temper. Her voice as calm and reassuring as she could manage, given the fact that she shared his concerns for Sharon, she laid a gentle hand on his wrist, feeling the tension ripple under his skin.

"Lieutenant… Andy, you're not useless. I know you're frustrated by the situation. It's hard to stand by and watch our loved ones suffer."

She just raised a challenging eyebrow when he started to protest her choice of words, effectively shutting him up. Under different circumstances, she might have found his attempt at concealing his feelings for his Captain amusing.

"Believe me, I wish I could find a way to spare her this trial, but I can't and neither can you. All we can do is try and make it easier on her by keeping unnecessary things like this interview with Gloria from her. You did that by sitting down with her in Sharon's place and you're being the friend she needs right now. Don't demand the impossible from yourself, Andy. All that will accomplish is making you sick and what kind of help do you think you'll be when you're in the hospital with a heart attack, hmm?"

Andy shook his head, shoulders slumped in defeat, his tone flat and almost lifeless.

"She doesn't need me. She never did. I'm just another addict who's messing up her life."

His morose attitude concerned her as much as his previous aggravation. Between his apparent blood pressure issues and his history with addiction, neither was good for him. What was it with men and their constant need to fix everything?

"Oh would you stop feeling sorry for yourself already? You're probably right. She doesn't need you. She is perfectly capable of getting through this on her own. That doesn't mean she wants to. I saw the two of you together earlier. She chose to let you in, to see her at her most vulnerable. Sharon wants you by her side in this, she wants you to help her through this and you are helping her more than you know. This is not about fixing it or making the situation go away. It's about being there. The worst thing you could do to her is distance yourself from her out of some misguided sense of guilt or shame or whatever you've got into your head right now. _That_ would make you just another addict who messes up her life. Don't be just another man who walks out on her and leaves her with a broken heart. We both know you're not that kind of man. You're not like him."

His first impulse was to yell at her in anger. How could she compare him to Jack? Hot on the heels of outrage followed another wave of guilt and shame, though. Was he really so much different than the other man? He had left his own wife, after all, although things had been a little different in his case. The fact remained, however, that he had been a rotten husband who had been nothing but a disappointment to his family.

"How am I not going to screw this up? I always do in the end."

Andrea almost felt sorry for her earlier words. They had been harsh, maybe unnecessarily so, but she didn't see another way to make him understand what he was about to throw away. Usually, it wasn't her style to meddle in other people's lives like this, even if they were her friends, but she couldn't stand the idea of seeing these two hurting so much. If a little nudge from a friend could help them find their way, she would put aside her principles for a little while.

"You do what you've been doing these last few months. You love her, you don't give up on her, and you never stop trying your best. That's all she wants, Andy. She doesn't expect you to be perfect. Just be yourself and be there."

He snorted before his eyes met hers, his expression a mixture of doubt and relief.

"Be myself, huh? I guess I can do that."

Smiling at him encouragingly, she decided to give him one more piece of advice, something she knew would be extremely important to Sharon.

"Good. And make sure that you don't forget to take care of yourself in all of this. It's okay to need time to yourself occasionally."

He nodded, giving her a self-deprecating smile as he replied, "Yeah, I'm working on that."

They both got up and moved towards the door. As they were about to part ways in the hall, Andy cleared his throat, studying his shoes for a moment, before he met her gaze.

"Thank you, Andrea. For your honesty and your support. And I'm sorry if I made a mess earlier with Lim. It's just…"

She held up a hand, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

"Don't worry about her. She had it coming. I'll call her boss and talk to him about her behaviour. Someone's got to stop her before she upsets someone with less restraint than you showed today. We'll find a way to address the City Attorney's concerns in a more appropriate manner – without Gloria. But that can wait a few days."

Andy nodded, relieved to know that Andrea was on their side and confident that she would find a way to deal with this issue without dragging anyone's reputation through the dirt. With a few last parting words, they went their separate ways. As he picked up his keys and wallet from his desk drawer, Andy already felt a lot better. He had needed to vent his anxiety, his doubts and fears and, although unexpected, Hobbs had been the ideal person to listen and then give him the verbal slap he had required. She certainly didn't pull her punches.

Making his way to the elevator, he pulled out his phone and texted Sharon that the interview had gone okay and that he was off to his meeting now, promising to let her know when he was done. Her reply came when he had just slipped into his car and it caused a happy smile to spread over his face and a pleasant warmth to settle inside his stomach. Maybe the day wouldn't be a complete waste after all.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 12**

Sharon was curled up on the sofa with her book when Andy knocked on her door shortly before ten that night. Her stomach was knotted with a mixture of anxiety and happiness, as she went to let him in. Not for the first time that night did she question the rather daring text message she had sent him earlier. They both knew what she had meant when she had offered that he could stop by his house for a change of clothes - at least she hoped he knew - but it was the second time in as many days that she had asked Andy to stay the night and it had to mean something. The truth was she had missed his solid presence beside her, despite the fact that it had been the right decision to send him away for the day. She had needed space and time to think about some things and it had done her good.

Opening the door, she let her gaze wander over him, from the small bag he held in an iron grip to the tense set of his shoulders and the drawn expression on his face. He looked like he'd had a terrible day and yet, beneath it all there was a light in his brown eyes that spoke of happiness as he smiled at her. Tugging him inside, she closed the door behind him before she stepped into his arms, her head resting against his chest. They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other and soaking up all the warmth and comfort they had gone without throughout the day.

When Sharon finally pulled out of the hug, she rose onto the balls of her feet to brush her lips against his cheek, breathing the words that had been on her mind all day against his skin.

"I missed you."

She felt him bury his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply as his lips grazed her ear, making her shiver. Before he had a chance to answer, Sharon pulled away and turned towards the kitchen.

"I hope you're hungry. What would you like to drink with your pizza?"

She had just reached the fridge when he caught up with her and placed a hand on her arm, gently turning her towards him.

"I'm not really hungry right now. Would you mind if we just sat down and talked for a bit?"

His tight smile didn't reach his eyes, his entire demeanor worrying her as she nodded and led him to the sofa. As she sank into the cushions next to him, he put his arm around her and drew her against his side. Curling her legs underneath her, Sharon found a comfortable position with her head resting against his chest once more, their joined hands lying on his thigh, fingers entwined. For a long moment they didn't speak, simply enjoying their closeness. She felt him relax a little next to her, but there was still a certain tension running through him. Squeezing his hand gently, she tried to get to the bottom of his strange mood, her tone light, almost casual.

"How was your meeting with Andrea?"

His reply was something between a grunt and a snort and she felt his muscles twitch underneath her cheek.

"You really don't want to know. Let's talk about something else, okay? How are you holding up?"

He let his hand comb through her hair, fingertips gently massaging her scalp, as his deep voice rumbled in his chest. Sharon sighed as she sat up to look at him. She had expected that question, but the annoyance she felt upon hearing it was a little surprising.

"Could we maybe not talk about my emotional well-being? For the last two days everything has been about how I'm feeling, how I'm holding up, how I'm dealing with the situation and I… Frankly, I'm sick of talking about that and I would really rather listen to you talking about your day right now. So tell me what happened."

Andy looked down at her, ready to protest, but her Darth Raydor glare made him swallow his retort. He really didn't want to tell her about the details of his interview with the two attorneys. She didn't need to know how ugly it had been or what exactly had been discussed. When she raised an eyebrow, conveying her growing impatience, he shook his head at her, growling two words that he knew would explain both his frustration and his reluctance to go over that conversation with her.

"Gloria Lim."

Her eyes widened in understanding as she nodded, her lips twitching with a barely suppressed smile.

"Ah."

"Yes, ah. Happy?"

When she caught sight of his adorably petulant expression, she couldn't help but laugh, provoking a half-hearted glare from him. Her feature settled into a more serious expression once more, her hand caressing his chest before it came to rest over his heart.

"Yes, as long as you promise me that you won't keep it all bottled up in order to protect me. You need someone to talk to just as much as I do. It doesn't have to be me if that makes you uncomfortable, but please make sure you get to vent some of that frustration before it gets too much."

She needed him to understand how important it was to her that he took care of himself; that he didn't get trapped in the dark corners of his mind while he was looking out for her.

"I promise. As a matter of fact, I talked to Andrea earlier, after the meeting. So yeah, I'm fine. Just annoyed by that little…"

Out of respect for Sharon he didn't finish that thought, knowing how much she disliked bad language and name-calling. Holding her gaze for a long moment, he let her see the sincerity of his words, waiting for her nod of acknowledgement and the soft smile that graced her lips, before her eyes dropped to their clasped hands.

"I'm not going to talk about how I am, but I can tell you that, although this day started out horribly, it got increasingly better. I spent the afternoon treating myself to some much needed wellness time and pizza night turned out really great."

She smiled happily, still staring at his lap where her thumb played with his gold bracelet, and he knew she wasn't just putting on an act so he would stop worrying.

"Is he doing okay with all this?"

They all knew that learning about Sharon's past could potentially trigger unpleasant memories for Rusty and he was worried how he would deal with that. Two years ago – or maybe even last year – he would probably have closed off from them, maybe even run away. The fact that their evening seemed to have been good made him breathe easier.

"Rusty's fine. Great, actually. We had a long talk tonight and he said some things…"

She was unable to go on as emotions choked her and make her eyes tear up. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat before she tried again.

"He said that many things about me and about the way things worked out between us makes a lot more sense to him now, he understands a lot of what I did, things he thought of as annoying or unnecessary at the time. And he mentioned something that he started to realize a while ago, but wasn't ready to admit."

She took a moment to breathe, her focus solely on the repetitive motion of her thumb on his jewelry. When she continued to speak, her voice was deeper than usual, almost breaking several times.

"He said that, in all the ways that count, I'm more of a mother to him than his biological one ever was and that, although he might not be able to call me Mom out loud, it is what he feels in his heart."

The last words were spoken through tears and when she looked up at him, a wide, joyful smile on her face, Andy pulled her into a tight hug, his own throat closing up with emotions. He knew how much those words meant to her and that Rusty had chosen to open up about this showed how far he had come from the angry little psycho they had all met three years ago.

As he looked down at her smiling face, her eyes sparkling with happiness, he was once again blown away by her remarkable strength. With everything she had been through over the last few years and with her past coming back to haunt her, she would have every right to give up. Life had knocked her down so many times but she had pulled herself up again and again, never quitting, even when no one would have blamed her. With all those bad things that had happened to her and all the bad things she saw at work every day, she was still able to appreciate the beauty life had to offer.

He didn't know how long he had stared at her when she drew her bows together in concern, her smile still evident in the soft sound of her voice.

"What?"

Shaking his head, he let the back of his fingers gently brush against her cheek.

"You," he rasped, "Do you have any idea what an amazing person you are?"

At her questioning look, he continued.

"You went through hell and came back. Life tried its best to break you, and yet here you are, maybe a little cracked but still in one piece. No one believed you could recover and you proved them all wrong."

Andy took a deep, steadying breath, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of her hair.

"Your strength was what helped me get through rehab and what kept me from reaching for that bottle when things got tough. Whenever I felt like I couldn't do it, I thought about you and that, if you had been able to get through something like that, I would be strong enough not to take that drink. You were my sobriety angel. You still are."

His words brought her back to their Christmas party and the beautiful angel ornament he had given her. When she had unpacked it, he had told her that it reminded him of her, because she was his angel. At the time, she hadn't understood but her children had distracted her before she'd had a chance to ask.

Tears trailing down her face, she cupped his cheek with one hand, gazing into his brown eyes, wanting to get lost in the warmth and love she saw in them.

"And you were mine. That night and ever since, every time you fought with me or yelled at me, every time you challenged me and treated me like you would any other officer in my position. You never gave me the feeling that I was fragile or damaged, even though you had been there, even though you knew what he did to me. You have no idea how much that meant to me, how much that helped me find my way back to myself. Whenever we crossed paths and I looked into your eyes, I saw myself the way I was before, the way I wanted to be again. You made me believe that it was possible."

Laying her head back against his shoulder, she covered his hand with hers once more, her fingers tracing the familiar bracelet the way she had done so many times before. When she spoke again, something that came over her lips without conscious thought, her voice was low, almost a whisper.

"Before we can stand, we have to believe we can get up. It's not strength. It's perseverance. Like a child, getting up again and again until you stop falling."

Her words resonated within him, a reflection of both their struggles, but also something more. They sounded familiar, bringing back memories of countless notes, written on expensive stationary, carefully crafted in a beautiful, slanting script. Seventeen of those notes sat in a box in his desk drawer, one for each year of his sobriety. Every year, without fail, he would come to work on the anniversary of his first day without a drink to find an envelope with a note inside. Sometimes it would be a poem, sometimes a quote, and sometimes a few simple, inspiring or encouraging lines. Not once had they been signed. One year, the note had come inside a small box. It was his fifth anniversary and only a few weeks after a particularly hard case, one that had hit so close to home for him that he had struggled not only with his temper but also with remaining sober. He had pulled through and on the other end of that tunnel he had found a beautifully wrapped package, which contained the gold bracelet he had worn ever since. Apart from one or two medical procedures, he had never taken it off.

As he studied the way Sharon's fingers toyed with it, her words still ringing in his ears, the pieces finally slid into place.

"Maybe we are all stronger than we think. Keep fighting."

Sharon looked up at him, startled to hear those words returned to her after so many years. Their eyes locked, almost a caress, as understanding passed between them. She had always thought that love was weakness, that it left her vulnerable and exposed, but in that moment, in the depth of Andy's dark gaze, she realized that she had been wrong. She had loved this wonderful man for many years - as her savior, her friend and lately, as so much more – and this love had given her nothing but strength. It had kept her going when she thought it impossible to move one more step. It had pulled her up whenever she had found herself stumbling. It had given her hope when thoughts of a normal life had seemed like an unreachable dream. In Andrew Flynn she had found the kind of man she trusted to catch her so, releasing a breath she had not been aware of holding, Sharon decided to let herself fall.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, gently exploring, tongues touching, a tentative duel that slowly grew in intensity, as hands roamed over muscles rippling with pleasure. When the need for air finally forced them apart, her head returned to its resting place on his chest, and they sat in silence, secure in the knowledge that, although things would not always be easy, they would fight, they would survive, and they would come out on the other end stronger because they had each other.

**TBC**

**All right, there's going to be one more chapter to tie it all up nicely - I hope. Unfortunately, it's not quite done yet. I'm almost there and hope to have it finished and off to the beta before I leave for work tomorrow. That is, if the characters behave and don't run off with any ideas of their own. So it's quite possible that chapter 13 won't be up at the usual time tomorrow. You won't have to wait too long, though. :D Thank you all for sticking around and for your encouragement throughout this journey! It is very much appreciated! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Never Let Me Go**

**Chapter 13**

**A/N: **This chapter only got to see the light of day because of **Kadi219's** help and support. When I was ready to scrap it and have this story end with Chapter 12, she swooped in and saved the day. Thank you so much, hon! Not just for this chapter, but for all those crazy plotting sessions. 3

_Three months later_

The usher stood at the door, her eyes respectfully averted as Sharon stepped close to Andy, adjusting the perfectly neat collar of his shirt and straightening his tie before she focused on the lapels of his jacket, smoothing them out under her shaking hands. She rose onto the balls of her feet and planted a soft, lingering kiss against his lips, moaning quietly when he let his arms slip around her waist to pull her closer, deepening the kiss. A cough a few feet away drew them out of their little bubble of comfort and warmth and she reluctantly stepped back a little, her hands still resting against his chest as she held his eyes with her own for a moment.

With a slight smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, she whispered, "You'll do great. Don't let them see you sweat." Wiping some imaginary lint off his shoulder, Sharon planted another quick kiss against the corner of his mouth before she let go of him. Andy brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek, giving her a reassuring smile that didn't quite chase the darkness from his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll try not to strangle the defense attorney when he asks me any stupid questions." His tone was only half-joking as they both knew what direction Harris' lawyer might choose to take when questioning him.

Catching his hand in hers before he could withdraw it, she pressed his fingers against her lips, her eyes fixed on his.

"I'll be waiting right here. In case you need me."

They both grinned at the familiar words. After one last, lingering kiss Andy stepped away and walked through the doors into the courtroom. Sharon stared at the closed doors for a long moment before she sat down on one of the benches in the hallway, rummaging through her bag to find her book.

Focusing on the slightly trashy romance novel Gavin had given her for her last birthday was harder than expected, as she was preoccupied with the trial and her concern for Andy. It was easier to worry about how he would deal with his time on the stand than it was thinking about the fact that it would be her turn later that day.

He had been quiet all morning. She had woken up to an empty bed, only to find him on the balcony, dressed in shorts and a t-shit, cradling a cup of coffee and staring into the distance. She had walked up behind him, sliding her arms around him and kissing his cheek. Andy had hummed in greeting, turning his head to capture her lips before he had pulled her around and into his lap. They had sat like that for a long time, sharing his coffee and watching the sun rise, slowly bathing the city in its warm light until it had been past time to get ready to leave. They had gone through their morning routine, the steps like a well-rehearsed choreography as they took their turns in the bathroom and got dressed, stepping around each other, stealing the occasional kiss or brushing a hand over an arm or along a back in passing.

It wasn't as if they were living together. Andy still had his own place and sometimes he even slept there. His spending most nights at her place hadn't been a conscious decision. It had just happened. They had gradually slid into this comfortable arrangement where they went home together at the end of a long day, had dinner alone or with Rusty and either watched TV, read in companionable silence or spread a case file all over the couch and coffee table, poring over some detail or another before they went to bed. A month after the Harris case had been opened again, they had decided that it didn't really matter that there were still some steps they hadn't taken. What they had might not be a typical relationship, but it definitely was a relationship and thus should be reported to Taylor. To his credit, the Assistant Chief had barely even blinked, simply handing them the required paperwork, signing it and telling them to make sure they kept it out of the office. If it was guilt over his role in the screwed up case or if he really didn't care, they would probably never know.

Neither their team nor their families had been particularly surprised to learn of the change in the status of their relationship. While Provenza had grumbled a bit – mostly good-naturedly – Rusty had grinned before pulling Sharon into a hug and whispering in her ear how happy he was for them. His _about time_ was left unsaid, but the sparkle in his eyes had communicated it just as clearly.

They had managed to find a balance between their work relationship and what they were to each other outside of the office. It had been difficult at first to keep the two separate, because it wasn't possible to simply turn off their feelings when they stepped off the elevator on the ninth floor. There had been missteps and there had been fights, but they had worked out most of that just as they had found a way to live with the renewed awareness of their shared past and move on in spite of it.

With a little luck, they would be able to finally put it all behind them after giving their statements today. It would be difficult for both of them, but she was confident that it would all be worth it in the end. Sharon hoped that they wouldn't be too hard on Andy in there. She was reasonably sure that Harris' lawyer would not go after _her_ too aggressively. It would do very little to gain the jury's sympathy after she said her piece. They had talked about it with Andrea and the DDA was convinced that the defense attorney would try to discredit her testimony by taking apart Andy. His anger management issues were no secret, even if he had gotten better at controlling himself, and getting him to blow up with a few well-aimed questions and insinuations might shed some doubt on his statement and, consequently, on hers. He knew what was at stake and he would control his outrage at whatever would be thrown at him, but it would cost him to sit there quietly and listen to his conduct and integrity being questioned or, even worse, hers. His macho-attitude or – as he preferred to call it – his protectiveness towards her was something she found both irritating and endearing. It was an integral part of his personality and suppressing it took a lot of restraint. Sharon expected him to feel bad about not having defended her, but that was something they would deal with once all of this was over. She would try to convince Taylor to give both of them a long weekend off. They had never been away together and after the last few weeks of intense trial preparations, several hard cases and their day in court, they could both use a little vacation. Maybe they could drive up North along the coast. Gavin had a timeshare in Pacific Grove and if it wasn't in use at that particular time, she might be able to talk him into giving her the keys. The thought of having Andy completely to herself for a few days without any interruptions was heavenly and she vowed to make it happen as soon as could be arranged.

Sharon was still deep in thought, somewhere between worry for Andy and dreams of a romantic getaway when someone cleared his throat in front of her, making her jump slightly before she got up. To say she was surprised to find her ex-husband standing in only a few steps away, a worried expression on his face, would be and understatement.

"Jack, what are you doing here?"

He definitely looked better than the last time she had seen him. Over the more than thirty years she had known him, Sharon had become very good at spotting his tells. He was obviously doing great. His eyes were clear, his skin had a healthy tan and he had lost a considerable amount of weight. What really drew her eyes was his beard, though. The neatly trimmed goatee and mustache gave him a very dignified look instead of the forced youthfulness he had tried to portray previously and she had to admit that it was very attractive. She couldn't remember when she'd last seen him with any facial hair that wasn't the result of going on a bender and forgetting about personal hygiene. It must've been in the 80s when he wore that horrible mustache. The memory made her lips twitch and she had to press them together to keep from smiling.

Eyes fixed on his fidgeting hands, Jack cleared his throat before he reluctantly met her gaze.

"I heard about the trial and I was worried." Clearing his throat again, he looked away from her, his eyes restlessly moving around the hallway.

"I came by the condo a few weeks ago to check on you and see if I could maybe do something to help, but I saw you in the parking garage with Andy. I figured you didn't want me to barge in on you guys."

Sharon hummed quietly, grateful that Jack had backed off instead of provoking a confrontation. Why she seemed to be drawn to jealous, possessive machos she would never understand, but having those two fight over her was not her idea of a good time.

"So, the two of you are…"

At the shake of her head and her warning look, he left the rest of his question unasked, reminded of just how much his ex-wife cherished her privacy. It wasn't as if he didn't already know. What he had seen that night had been pretty obvious with the way they had walked arm in arm, laughing and smiling, kissing briefly before they walked through the door into the lobby. The intense surge of jealousy had been surprising, given that they were divorced and he had seen the writing on that particular wall a long time ago.

As much as he enjoyed riling her up occasionally, that wasn't why he had sought her out this time. Reaching out to touch one of her hands, he captured it in his, drawing a breath at the familiar sensation of her skin on his when her fingers closed around his, holding onto him.

"How are you holding up?"

Closing her eyes briefly, Sharon shrugged, trying to conceal her emotions behind her well-worn cloak of calm control. When she opened her mouth to answer the way she always answered these questions, he just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, letting her know that she couldn't fool him. _I'm fine_ had stopped convincing him a long time ago. He just chose to accept it most of the time, even if he didn't believe it.

That she let her guard down with him after everything that had happened between them was surprising. The moment she let go of the pretense, he saw all the pain and worry and heartache reflected in her eyes, making them shine with barely suppressed tears. Her voice was deeper than usual, husky with emotion.

"I don't know. It's… Andy is in there right now and I know they're going to ask him questions that will make him angry, but he'll keep quiet because that will make things easier for me later on, even if not fighting back is going to hurt him. And then he's going to pretend to be all right because he doesn't want me to worry about him."

She took a shuddering breath, gratefully squeezing his hand when he caressed it with his thumb, calming and encouraging.

"I don't want to talk about it in there. I don't even want to think about it anymore. Is having a chance at a normal life really too much to ask for? I…"

Her voice broke and her face crumbled, her free hand moving to her forehead to shield herself from him. What compelled him to do it he didn't know, but it was the only thing he could think of to make her feel better. Taking a step closer, he let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against him. She went willingly, laying her head against his neck as her arms circled his waist. They stood like that for a long time, his face buried in her hair. He breathed in her scent – traces of some floral shampoo and her favorite perfume – and let his eyes close at the memories it brought back. How many times had he held her like this? His body still remembered hers, the way it melted against him, the feel of her strong back muscles under his hands as he stroked up and down to comfort her. His lips brushed against her hair as he mumbled reassuring words into her ear.

"You will get through this, Sharon. It's just today and then you're done. Once they hear you tell your story, there's no way that pig won't get at least life, if not the death penalty. He hasn't managed to break you so far and he's not going to. You're stronger than him."

Her response was a hum that sounded more like a whimper as she turned her face into his neck and tightened her hold on him. This was what she had dreamed about during many lonely nights, his strength and support, his gentle words and his love, but that had been years ago, before she had come to accept that there were things that were more important to him than his wife and children, before she had given up on him being there when she needed him, before she had learned that she didn't need him or anyone else. And yet, she appreciated his presence now, drew comfort from him and enjoyed the familiar closeness. She may have learned not to need him and not to trust him, but she had never learned not to love him, even now that her heart belonged to another man, and even though she had no intention of ever revisiting what had been between them.

After a long moment of comfortable silence during which they simply relished each other's company, Jack reluctantly let her go, taking hold of her hand once again before he spoke, his tone gentle and caring.

"You talked to the kids about it?"

She nodded and he could see the pain in her eyes. Talking about what had happened to her wouldn't be easy under any circumstances, but doing it in front of her children, those kids who had grown up to believe her to be this mountain of strength, unshakable, immovable, and untouchable – it would have broken her heart.

"Thought so. Emily won't return my calls anymore. I figured you told her what an ass her father was."

Not so long ago, his tone might have carried an accusation beneath the humor, but he had changed. Losing Sharon for good had woken him up and made him see his life and his problems for what they were. It wasn't easy to look for the person to blame in the mirror instead of around him, but he was beginning to comprehend the damage he had done, not only to his own life, but to those of his loved ones as well.

She shook her head, an expression of surprise and indignation crossing her face.

"I didn't tell them about that, Jack. You should know better than to think I would. She remembered enough to put it together on her own and I told her that you tried, that I don't blame you and neither should she. It'll take time for her to get over it, but she'll come around eventually."

His response was matter of fact, as he knew only too well what he had done to her, how deeply he had hurt her at a time when he should have protected her.

"There was a time when you hated me for what I did, though. And you were right. I was a selfish ass and I should've tried harder."

Squeezing his hand, Sharon looked down, studying the stripes on his light blue tie as she thought about how to respond. There was no use in digging into old injuries, but she wouldn't lie to him, either.

"It was a bad time for me and I was angry about a lot of things, but I never hated you. You hurt me more than you'll ever know when you walked out on me that night, but later on I understood why you did it. It was a horrible situation for you to be in. You wanted to help, but I couldn't let you – not in the way you needed to. You did help, though and I'll always be grateful to you for trying your best to be there."

This time, his pain at what he had done, his shame for not having been better for her was evident in his voice and expression as he caught her eyes with his, begging her to understand how serious he was, how much he meant those words.

"But it wasn't enough and I'm so very sorry for that. I wish I could've been what you needed – not just then, but before as well. I was a rotten husband and I'll always regret that. I've screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me."

Over the years, Sharon had heard similar words countless times, but never before had she truly believed them the way she did at that moment. If only he could have reached this place of clarity years ago. Tears rolled down her cheek, both at his honest confession and at the lost opportunities, all the years they could have spent together, the love that had been so special in the beginning. She wished she had words to let him know how much she appreciated his honesty, how much it meant to her that he truly cared, but she was too choked up to speak. Instead she planted her free hand on his chest and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

Smiling at her, Jack cupped her cheek and wiped the tears away with his thumb, his own voice gruff with emotion.

"Just tell me one thing. Andy… Is he good to you? Is he what you need?"

Her entire face lit up in a way he hadn't seen in many years. It was an expression he had put on her face when they had still been young and the world had been full of wonder and endless opportunities. Seeing it now for another man was painful, but he had only himself to blame. She had loved him once, deeply and passionately, and she had fought for him for a very long time, but he had been too stupid to realize he was losing her until it had been too late. Now she loved someone else, a man who had been a lot like himself only with enough strength and determination to clean up his act for good. Her words, verbalizing what he had already seen in her eyes, were spoken with a soft voice full of love and pride and happiness.

"Yes, he is. So very much."

Jack nodded, trying very had not to let her see how much her words hurt. Brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers, he gave her a smile as he whispered, "I'm glad."

And he truly was. If anyone deserved to be happy and to have someone who loved her and took care of her, it was she, no matter how much it hurt that it wasn't him. Being loved by Sharon Raydor was nothing to get over easily, if ever and it would always be his biggest accomplishment, even if it hadn't lasted.

"Thank you, Jack."

He nodded, letting his hand rest on her shoulder for a short moment before he squeezed it gently in farewell, his tone a little wistful.

"Take care of yourself, Sharon."

He wanted to say more, to tell her to call him if he could do anything, but he knew that she wouldn't. The time when she had needed him was long gone so, with one last smile, he turned around and walked away.

Sharon stared after her ex-husband for a long while before she returned to her seat again. Her thoughts lingered on their exchange and she felt the familiar weight of regret in her heart at the thought of what they had lost. This time he really seemed to be serious about getting better and while it was too late to make a difference in their relationship, she was truly happy for him and for their children. He would never be her husband again, but if he managed to stay sober, there was still hope for him to be the good father she knew he could be.

Looking towards the courtroom doors, Sharon smiled at the thought of another good father who had managed to pull himself out of the depth of his addiction to be what his children needed. It had taken time and he was still working on it, but Andy's history was proof that it was possible and that, with enough determination and a little bit of stubbornness, broken trust could be restored.

Later, in the privacy of their home, she would tell him about her encounter with Jack and she knew that he would probably grumble a bit, but he would understand and he would maybe even be grateful that the other man had been able to give her a little comfort.

They had talked about Jack a while ago, after he had showed up drunk only to come back the next day full of remorse and promises she had heard too many times before. It had hurt to see him so broken, it always did. She might not have been ready to admit that there was more than friendship between them, but explaining to Andy why she cared so much about what happened to her ex-husband had been a little awkward. Jack had always been one of her biggest weaknesses. He had hurt her like no one else, but all the pain and heartache would never make her forget that she had loved him beyond reason once. A part of her always would, no matter how great the distance between them and even though they were no longer husband and wife. He would always be her first love and the father of her children and no matter who else entered her life and her heart, that would never change.

She had expected Andy to accuse her of being stuck in the past, of being hung up on a guy who didn't deserve her love. He definitely would not have been the first person to give her that speech, to question her sanity. Instead, he had wrapped her in his arms and held her for a long time. Then he had sat back, holding her hands between his and told her about Amanda, about how they had been something special once, before he had screwed it up and about the way he still tried to make her smile, even if she did her best to drive him crazy. They had a different dynamic between them. They threw sarcastic comments at each other, they fought and sometimes they outright yelled at each other, but they still cared. He did not know about Amanda, too much had happened, he had hurt and disappointed her so many times, but he still loved her and he always would, even if being in the same room with her was a nightmare more often than not.

He had understood, hadn't questioned her feelings or her intentions. She was aware that the two men were not on the friendliest terms; that they were locked in some arcane struggle for her attention and favor, and she had appreciated that Andy had been able to keep those feelings away from her in that moment. As jealous as he tended to be, especially where Jack was concerned, Andy was also very understanding and conscious of her needs. He would realize that her talk with her ex had given closure to a very important chapter of her life, that it had been necessary and long overdue.

For the second time that day she was startled out of her thoughts, this time by two people plopping down on the bench on either side of her. Looking between the two figures and the one standing a few feet away, hands buried in his pockets, she gasped, completely surprised.

"Ricky, Emily, what… I thought I told you not to come."

Her joyful tone took the force out of the reprimand and she put an arm around each and pulled them into her, placing gentle kisses into their hair. As much as she had wanted to keep them away from all of this, having them beside her made her heart lighter. Smiling happily at Rusty who had slowly come closer after she had exchanged her greetings with the other two, she raised an eyebrow, trying hard and failing to look stern.

"Anyone want to tell me why you're here when I remember us talking about this only last week?"

Her older children only grinned at her, but Rusty looked a little uncomfortable. He was still learning how she sometimes lectured them about something, even though she was secretly – or not so secretly – happy about it. Shuffling his feet, his hands seeking refuge in the stretched out sleeves of his hoody, he started confessing their plot.

"I know you said you didn't want us here, but sometimes you just say that to protect us and we didn't think it would be right for you to be alone today, so we talked to Lieutenant Flynn about it. He said that you probably didn't know it, but that you would like having us close. Not like, in there or anything, but out here to keep you company while you wait and maybe for dinner later when it's over."

He gave her a reluctant look in the eye, unsure of her reaction when his sister piped in.

"And that's what we're doing. You'll have both of us for two days, so you'd better stop with the frowning and start enjoying it. And don't make Rusty feel any more uncomfortable than he already does. Our little brother isn't used to the plotting yet."

"You were right. I am very happy you're all here, although I would appreciate it if you actually listened to what I say occasionally. All of you." She gave each of her children a serious look before she fixed her narrowed eyes on the door to the courtroom. They would have to have a conversation about enabling her children's plotting – right after she thanked him thoroughly for encouraging them to come.

Emily nudged her mother's shoulder with her own, looking concerned, her eyes shifting between her and her siblings.

"We ran into father on the way here. He said he'd just been here to see you. Are you all right?"

It hurt to know that her kids distrusted their own father so much, that they believed he would come here to hurt her. Part of it unfortunately was experience as they had seen him do just that many times, although mostly unintentionally. Not for the first time did Sharon question what kind of an example she had been to them with the way she had dealt with Jack. She wished she could make them understand that whatever had passed between her and their father shouldn't influence their relationship with him. They had enough hurt of their own to deal with.

Leaning back against the wall, Sharon turned slightly towards Emily, taking her hands in her own.

"Yes, he came by to see how I'm doing. Honey, just because we aren't married anymore doesn't mean we don't care about each other. That will never change. It was very nice of him to check on me and we had a good talk. I know it's difficult for both of you to separate my hurt feelings where your father is concerned from your own, but please try. I don't want to tell you how to feel about him or what kind of relationship you should have with him. That's a decision you have to make on your own. Just promise me you'll try to make that decision based on your feelings, not mine. Your Dad and I have worked out our differences. I forgave him a long time ago and he forgave me as well."

Ricky nodded, glad that he didn't have to pick sides. He didn't remember most of the really bad stuff between his parents and, although he was more than aware of his father's faults, he loved him and he was happy that he had been around more over the last year. Emily looked less convinced, but he knew she would try to do what their Mom had asked. She always did. He decided to make sure their Dad would be okay while Emily figured out where she stood with him, that he wouldn't turn around and crawl right back into that bottle. Maybe this time everything would work out for all of them.

They spent the rest of the time talking about more pleasant subjects, like Emily's rehearsals for Giselle and their upcoming US tour that would also bring them to LA in a few months, Ricky's plans for an extended trip to Europe before he and a few friends would start working on a new project, and Rusty's summer internship at the LA Times. Focusing on her children, on the way they talked about their plans for the future, on how proud she was of the wonderful adults they had become, was the best distraction she could have hoped for. Before she knew it, the double doors opened and people streamed out into the hallway, filling it with their chatter.

Jumping to her feet, Sharon scanned the crowd for his familiar face and when she finally spotted him, she drew a thin breath at his drawn expression and slumped shoulders. Andy looked exhausted both emotionally and physically, but he still gave her a small smile, part relief, part reassurance that he was fine. His eyes never left hers as he made his way through the throng of people to join them. Taking his hands, Sharon gave him a searching look, her voice low and deep with concern.

"How did it go?"

Andy simply shook his head, closing his eyes as he drew her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. Feeling her in his arms, vibrant and alive, made his tense muscles relax slightly. Revisiting the horror of eighteen years ago once again had been harder than he had expected and the cross-examination had not been very pleasant, either. He had no intention to talk about it. Not at that moment, in front of her children and when she still had her own testimony to worry about. There would be time to talk and he would probably need a few meetings and an appointment with his shrink, but once they got through this day, they could finally put it behind them.

He wouldn't say anything to Sharon yet, but with the way Judge Grove had shot down some of the more outrageous questions by the defense attorney, he was pretty sure that that idiot would think long and hard about the way he approached her later. Grove might not always be the friendliest person, but he seemed to like Sharon and he definitely didn't like rude or inappropriate questions. Andy trusted him to look out for her. He had done the same for Rusty, after all.

It took them a while to notice the grins her kids exchanged and they reluctantly stepped out of each other's arms. It was Ricky who spoke up, his tone and expression a little more enthusiastic than any of them felt, but it managed to drag them all back into the present.

"I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't mind grabbing something to eat. How it about pizza? I'm buying."

His siblings agreed happily – Rusty because he could always eat and Emily because she hadn't had anything since dinner the night before, but Sharon and Andy didn't seem convinced as they had one of their wordless conversation in a shared glance.

"Honey, if you want to grab something, that's fine, but we don't really feel like eating at the moment."

When they looked into three equally sad and worried faces, Andy took pity on them, suggesting a compromise.

"Pizza is a bit much right now, but I could go for some cake. Why don't we save the pizza for dinner? I'm sure once this crap here is behind us we'll have more of an appetite for it."

Sharon caressed his arm briefly, letting him know how much she appreciated his idea. Emily's eyes lit up at the mention of cake and the boys didn't mind dessert either, especially when they were allowed to have it instead of _proper_ food. Even all grown up they were still her babies and it did her heart good to have them close.

They picked up coffee and brownies at a small café around the corner and found a bench in the shade to enjoy their break among relaxed conversation and jokes about some of the more infamous adventures of Flynn and Provenza - anything to keep their minds occupied and away from the darkness of the trial and her impending testimony. All too soon their brief respite was over and they headed back inside, arriving as the last people walked through the doors to take their seats. They had just enough time to exchange a few words before she would be summoned. After hugging each of her kids, she let Andy guide her closer to the entrance, his arm around her shoulders.

He turned her towards him, grasping her hand with one of his while the other caressed her cheek. "Are you ready?" he rasped, concern evident in his voice.

Leaning into his touch, she brushed her lips against the base of his thumb, letting her eyes slip shut for a moment to enjoy the sensation of his skin against hers.

"As ready as I'll ever be. I just want to put it behind me." She sounded exhausted and a little resigned, even to her own ears, but she was determined to get through this. She would never truly be prepared for talking about the worst time of her life in front of a room full of strangers. However, with a little luck she would never have to talk about those things again once she was done in there and that thought was enough to make her turn and walk away from Andy when the usher called her.

Before she stepped through the doors, Sharon stopped, her hand reaching out to steady herself on the doorframe as she drew a thin, shaking breath, a shiver running through her at the sight of Jonathan Harris sitting casually only a few feet away. Her legs refused to move and she could feel her heart beating frantically, her throat closing up as a wave of panic threatened to close in on her. She couldn't do it. It was too much. She hadn't thought about it. They had only talked about his lawyer and what he might do and ask, but they had never discussed Harris himself. It was stupid, so stupid of her. She should have been prepared for this.

Breathing became harder as the pounding in her ears increased in volume. Suddenly, she felt a hand between her shoulder blades and heard a soft voice whisper gentle words into her ear.

"Breathe, Sharon. You can do this. You're stronger than him. Just breathe."

Once she had some of her control back, she turned her face towards him and gave him a slightly wobbly smile, full of warmth and love and gratitude.

"That's it. You'll do great. I'll be right there with you. Just look at _me_. Pretend the others aren't there and just tell your story to _me_."

When her eyes widened in surprise he simply shrugged and gestured for her to walk ahead of him, his hand not leaving her back until he had to slip into one of the benches. His whispered parting words made her smile.

"Show them why they call you Darth Raydor."

Him being inside the courtroom for her testimony had not been planned, but since he had already said his piece it was not against the rules. When he had seen her freeze up just inside the entrance, Andy had cursed himself for not thinking of broaching the subject of Harris' presence with her earlier. Going in with her was the only idea he could come up with on short notice and if that would make things easier for her, he would gladly listen to her talk about things he had so far only imagined. The fact that throughout her testimony Sharon never took her eyes off of him unless she was asked a question, told him he had done the right thing and that made all the pain worthwhile.

Much later, after dinner, a long walk along the beach with ice cream and a lot of laughter, Sharon closed the bedroom door behind her, shutting out the happy chatter of her children who had decided to have a _Die Hard_ marathon in the living room. They had tried to convince them to stay up, at least for the first part, but they had both been too tired.

As his arms slipped around her and she was pulled into his solid form, she hummed contentedly, letting her head fall against his shoulder. He nuzzled her ear through the thick curtain of her hair, his hands splayed over her stomach, thumbs drawing circles on the silk of her blouse. After enjoying the first moment of quiet solitude since waking up that morning for a little while, Sharon turned in his arms and put her arms around his neck, drawing him into a long, lazy kiss. She had wanted to do that since he had walked out of the courtroom, but with the children around, it had not been possible. In the privacy of their bedroom and the safety of his arms with the soft caresses of lips and tongues, she could finally let go of the pain and tension of the day. The moment she did not have to pretend to be fine anymore, pretense stopped being necessary. She knew that the road ahead of her was still long, that there would be moments when memories would overwhelm her, but she was no longer alone. With his love and understanding on her side she would be truly fine.

"Thank you for today, for knowing what I needed. I really should be angry with you for going behind my back like that, but you were right. It helped to have them here. And it helps to have you here."

Placing another lingering kiss against the corner of his mouth she gazed deeply into his eyes. Just as she was about to speak again, she was interrupted by a yawn. They both chuckled at the unfortunate timing and, still grinning, Sharon cupped his cheeks with her hands and gave him a brief peck on the mouth.

"I love you, Andy Flynn, but if you don't take me to bed right now you'll have to carry me there."

He lifted her, with a grin and a chuckle, sweeping her up as though she weighed no more than one of his suits. "I've been waiting for you to say those words for longer than you can imagine, and damned if I'm too tired to do anything about it."

Her arms circled his neck, and although her laughter was joyful, there was a serious glint in her eyes. "One day soon, that won't be the case."

It was a promise, as much to herself as to him. Their time was coming. In these arms she had the courage to try again. And she knew that even if she failed, he would still love her, and he would still be with her. He would wait. She was enough for him. For that she had the courage to trust again, herself as much as his love. He would never turn away. Even if they fought, and she knew that they would, it was who they were, he would never let her go.

**So, this is it - the end of an exhausting but interesting journey. A big 'thank you' to everyone who trusted me enough to read it and who stuck around till the end and encouraged me with their favorites, follows and all those wonderful reviews! You are all very much appreciated! **


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